Nomad
by ZCal0221
Summary: Various events of Fallout 3 told in first person. Rated M for language, violence, sex, drugs, and alcohol.
1. A Monumental Task

_**"Listen up, children! This is Three Dog! The Super Mutants in the DC interior are not to be fucked with. They will never be reasoned with, they cannot be bribed and they WILL kill you just for the fun of it. If you see them, don't try to fight! Running, hiding and sneaking are your best options if you want to avoid becoming monster chow! Until next time children, this is THREE DOG! AAAHHHHOOOOOOOOO!"**_

"Yeah...thanks for the advice, dipshit," I growled through clenched teeth. "Fucking prick..." My breath was coming to me in ragged gasps, but I knew I had to finish patching my wounds before I could allow myself to pass out. If I didn't get myself fixed up there was a real chance that I'd never leave this place.

I rolled a dial on the left side of the device strapped to my wrist, turning the volume to zero. The thing is called a PipBoy 3000 and as far as I'm concerned, it's worth it's weight in gold. In fact, based on what I'd seen since I left the vault, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that my PipBoy is the most technologically advanced piece of equipment in the entire Capital Wasteland.

Aside from the built-in radio, the PipBoy has a fully updateable mapping feature, a built in flashlight, as well as a medical function called H.I.T.S. That's the Health & Immunity Tracking System, and it works exactly as advertised. H.I.T.S. monitors my heart rate, radiation level, skeletal stability, blood toxicity and a ton of other cool shit. It basically tells me how badly I'm hurt, and at the time that was exactly what I needed to know.

I had been holed up, high inside the Washington Monument for the last 4 hours, tending to a gunshot wound in my left shoulder and what I was pretty sure were at least two broken ribs on my right side. As far as I knew, the bullet was still lodged in my shoulder and while it did hurt like hell, I didn't think it was life threatening. My ribs were my main concern...I could feel them slip and move, so I knew they were broken. I was scared to death and the fear was intensified by the threat of internal damage.

6 hours ago, I infiltrated the ruins of Washington DC, on a task for the voice on the radio. Three Dog sent me to the Museum of Technology to locate an old radar dish that he said would boost his station's signal. He told me that if I helped him, I'd be "fighting the good fight." Whatever. I can't say I was interested in any of that. I also can't say I cared for Three Dog.

If it had been anyone else, I would have told him to go fuck himself. But, the sad fact is...I agreed to this suicide mission because that asshole Three Dog might just be the only person who knows where I can find my dad.

I began to rummage through my backpack and found the small box of medical supplies I carried. The items inside were undoubtedly the most valuable things I'd been able to scavenge over the course of the last few weeks, and I quickly learned to search every first-aid kit I found for more.

The darkness slowed my search, but I wasn't about to turn the light on. A bright light in the tower would only advertise my position. It would pretty much be one of the dumbest fucking moves I could think of at the time, and I was injured, not stupid. After a few moments, I found what I was looking for and got to work.

I pulled a stimpack, a small bottle of purified water, and half a roll of medical tape from the box and set them beside me. Using the clean water, I scrubbed a small area about the size of a bottlecap about 5 inches below my armpit.

Taking a deep breath, I jabbed the tip of the stimpack into my skin. I grimaced sharply and then exhaled slowly as I felt the numbing medicine rush to heal and strengthen the bruised flesh. That shit definitely helped with the pain, but I knew I'd have to find a doctor if I wanted to know just how badly damaged my ribs really were. As I wrapped the medical tape tightly around my abdomen, I could feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness.

Reaching into the one of the pockets of the jacket on the floor next to me, I pulled out a half full bottle of whiskey and took a deep swig. The liquid fire numbed my senses almost immediately.

"_How the fuck did things go so wrong?"_ My mind drifted back to the moment when everything started to fall apart.

Upon entering the museum, I discovered that a large portion of an upper floor had collapsed and blocked the entrance to the lunar exhibit, forcing me to detour through most of the museum. _"Great." _ I thought. As far as anyone knew, this place was absolutely crawling with Super Mutants. "Fuck it," I sighed to myself, "just gonna have to be careful."

The first exhibit was a tour through a mock Vault, like the one I had grown up in. If I wasn't in such extreme danger, I might have felt nostalgic about that, but I had to stay focused.

After the quick trip down memory lane, I plunged into the heart of the museum. I managed to make good progress by staying in the shadows, slipping past patrolling muties, and taking out any of the ugly fucks that I wasn't able to sneak by.

I eventually found my way to the lunar exhibit and located the dish without much trouble. It wasn't exactly what I expected, but fuck it, I'm not complaining. It was the first pleasant surprise I'd had all day, and I'm not one to look a gift Brahmin in the mouth. The dish was roughly the diameter of a dinner plate and only weighed about 15 pounds. I secured it to my backpack, and prepared to leave.

The way out of the museum would actually be easier to navigate than the way in. The exit of the lunar exhibit would deposit me on the other side of the fallen rubble that had blocked my way earlier. The large doors at the top of the stairs in the room led to a balcony that overlooked the main lobby, so I knew I wouldn't have far to go after I was done in there.

I realize now, it was that bit of knowledge that led me to be so careless, but sometimes, one mistake is all it takes.

Feeling confident with the knowledge that I knew the way out, I decided to explore a bit more. Maybe I'd be able to find some extra medical supplies or, if I was lucky, a weapons cache. I followed the signs on the wall directing me to an administrative area. One sign had three listings on it. CONTROL ROOM, SUPPLY CLOSET, SECURITY. _"Bingo…security."_ After quickly checking my ammo, I hurried down the hallway.

As I rounded the corner at the hallway's intersection, I found myself face to face with four hundred and fifty pounds of pissed off muscle holding a sledgehammer. We reacted at the same time, but as I raised my assault rifle, I instinctively knew I had made a big mistake. Everything was wrong, and in a flash, I realized why. This big mother fucker was left-handed!

_"Of course, I'd run into the only left-handed super mutant in the entire capital wasteland..."_ I mused as I opened fire. The three round burst went wide and missed the mutant's head by a few inches.

Before I could correct my aim, I felt the sledge hammer blast into my right flank below my raised arm. It was a home run swing that launched me off my feet and hurled me into the wall on my left. The world became blurry as my knees buckled and I slid towards the floor. All I could do was look up in horror as the mutant raised the hammer above his head for what was sure to be a killing blow.

Pissed off at myself for being so careless, racked with pain and terrified beyond belief, I squeezed the trigger again. The assault rifle roared, drowning out my defiant scream. The first few bullets hit the mutant directly in the chest, so I held firm and traced a line up and into his chin. His head snapped back as a bullet caught him in the soft spot directly under the jowls. I gripped the trigger tightly until the top of his head exploded in a gory mist and the ceiling was painted red with bloody chunks of skull and brain. His huge corpse stiffened and fell straight backwards as the sledgehammer clattered against the smooth marble floor.

I laid on the cold floor for a minute or two before struggling to my feet. Instantly, I felt searing fire shoot through me. Slumping against the wall and clutching my side, I staggered back the way I came. Slowly, I made my way up the stairs towards the lobby. _"Fuck me…"_ I thought as I stepped through the door. The drop from the balcony to the lobby floor was about fifteen feet. Still, there was no way in hell I was going through that place again. I steeled myself and made the decision. I wanted to get the fuck out of there ASAP, so I was just going to have to be careful.

I kicked away a broken section of railing, clearing an area wide enough to lower myself. I laid on my stomach and pushed myself backwards feet first until I was hanging by both hands. My side was stretched, and the pain was unbearable. Tears welled up in my eyes. I lost the grip in my right hand, my arm falling limp at my side. I dangled by my left hand for another moment before letting go and dropping the seven or so feet to the dusty floor. I landed in a heap and curled into a ball. I rolled onto my hands and knees and coughed harshly. A deep red glob of blood splattered onto the tile. God damn. I forced myself to stand and stumbled to the foyer and out into the night.

The mall was eerily quiet, which only amplified the pounding in my head. The light of the moon served as the only source of illumination. The night sky was clear and starry with only the occasional wispy cloud rolling past here or there. I turned to the west and gazed up at the tallest structure in the city, the Washington Monument. My side was on fire with pain, and I struggled to breathe. Moving slowly, I avoided the series of bunkers and trenches that criss-cross the open area of the mall. The bunkers were surely full of those mutie dickheads, and I was in no shape to do any more fighting.

Slowly working my way forward through the deep shadows, I spotted two mutants atop one of the mounds that lined the trenches to my right. Stopping dead in my tracks, I watched until the larger one wandered away on patrol. After that, it was just a matter of waiting until the other one turned his back to me before I made my way forward, keeping my eyes peeled for any more movement.

When I was halfway to the Monument, I came across a lone mutant patrolling an area ahead. There would be no sneaking past this one. He hadn't seen me yet, and I clung to the wall, hoping the shadows would absorb me. I knew I wouldn't stand a chance if it came down to a straight up fight, and decided to improvise.

Twisting the clasp on my backpack as quietly as I could, I quickly found what I was looking for. Inching backwards, I rounded the corner of the building and dropped to one knee. I cautiously inspected the landmine before placing it about three and a half feet from the wall. Then I brushed a small bit of dirt over the top and around the sides of it, hoping to conceal as much as I could.

I crept forward to my previous hiding spot in the shadows and caught a better glimpse of the mutant when he stepped into the moonlit pathway. _"Great...a fucking brute."_

As far as I could tell, the Super Mutants definitely had some kind of hierarchy. The weaker ones were rarely well equipped, but this one had a full suit of thick looking armor and a hunting rifle not unlike the one I usually carried. I would have to be quick and purposeful if I was going to make this work.

I caught his attention by scraping the stock of my rifle against the rough mortar of the building. The Brute turned around quickly and faced my direction. I crept backwards, my heart pounding in my chest. The fire in my ribs was excruciating as I tried to hurry in a half crouching walk. When I was about 5 feet from the waiting trap, I stood and tried to look startled as if I had just rounded the corner.

"FILTHY HUMAN!" he bellowed as I spun on my heel and tried to run. Just as I was about to turn the corner, I heard the sharp report of his rifle, along with the jarring sensation of being punched in the shoulder.

I stumbled forward and rounded the corner, hugging the wall closely to avoid the small mound of explosives. Rushing into the darkness, I slipped into the shadows and slumped behind a large dumpster. Approximately 10 seconds later I heard the loud crunch of his footsteps, followed by a deafening explosion. A muscular yellow leg flew over the dumpster, impacted the wall I was facing and landed about two feet in front of me. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, I squinted through the cloud of dirt and debris. The trap had worked to perfection. Both of his legs were blown off, but he wasn't dead yet.

Rising to my feet, I walked towards him as he clawed at the ground. He was dragging himself towards me, evidently still itching for a fight. Running on adrenaline now, I barely noticed the pain as I stood above him. He whimpered something that sounded like "I'll eat your bones," but I wasn't hearing any of that bullshit. I brought my assault rifle to bear and growled, "payback's a bitch" as I fired a burst into each shoulder. He wasn't going to be dragging himself anywhere now. Squatting next to him, I kept my rifle pointed at his face. I ripped the thick helmet from his head, and tossed it aside.

"Start talking, shithead." I whispered. "What do you mutants want with DC? What are you after?"

"Filthy hu.." he repeated. I'd have to guess the rest of what he was going to say, but I was pretty sure I had an idea. Since the barrel of my gun was hovering two inches from his head, it was hard to make out exactly what he said as I pulled the trigger.

"Wrong answer." I quickly searched his body and managed to find a stimpack and a small box of .32 caliber rounds. "Thanks for the supplies though."

Scanning the area for any sign of trouble, I didn't see any more mutants, but after the way things had been going, I wasn't about to take any more chances. After waiting several minutes, I decided to press on. I spent another 20 minutes or so slowly creeping through the darkness, until I finally spotted the security point the Brotherhood had set up at the base of the monument. I couldn't see anyone there, so I moved forward cautiously. As I approached the imposing gates, I realized why. A corpse was draped over the sandbag fortification, and it was wearing the distinctive steel power armor of the Brotherhood of Steel.

I looted the heavy ammo box nearby, finding 3 magazines of 5.56 ammo and crouched next to the dead soldier. Running my fingers over the thick suit of power armor, I debated whether or not I could make use of it. No, I decided. It was too bulky and I had no idea how the shit worked. It looked clumsy and cumbersome. I'd never been very impressed with the way the BOS troops moved when they had it on.

I began to pull his helmet off, and his head rotated unnaturally. Fuck. Neck shot. This guy never knew what hit him. Carefully, I unhooked the bloody holotag from around what was left of his neck and turned it over in my hand. Paladin Garcia. I said a silent prayer for him and tucked the holotag into one of the pockets on my jacket.

Rising to my feet, I walked over to the security box that controlled access to the large gate. After inputting the code that Three Dog gave me, the gate slowly swung open and I began to walk through. I heard whimpering to my left and saw an armored figure curled in the fetal position, clutching a rifle.

"They came out of nowhere..." he sobbed. "Before I could even warn him, they shot him right in the throat!" He smelled like shit, and I was pretty sure he had soiled himself.

I quickly closed the gate and kneeled down next to him. Jesus Christ, this kid couldn't be more than 15 years old! What the fuck were these Brotherhood assholes thinking, sending a kid into the lions den?

"Get your shit together right now, kid!" I growled. "Tell me what happened." I could tell he was shaken to the core, but this was no time to be soft.

"I don't know," he whimpered. "The muties were on patrol like usual. We saw two of them in the distance, and were taking turns tracking them through the binocs. I had just opened the gate when I looked back towards Garcia. That was when I saw three of them moving on Garcia's flank, rushing towards him. Before I could say anything, his throat just exploded..." He continued to cry. I tried to piece together what he was saying between the loud sobs. "I turned to run, and that's when I saw the other three, coming at me from the opposite direction. Six fucking mutants, man!"

"It's okay, kid. You're safe now. Go on, tell me what happened after that." I consoled him. My ribs were throbbing, and I needed to get the facts quickly. There could be as many as eight angry mutants who had just seen me enter the gate.

"I ran. I left Garcia out there, like a fucking cow...like a fucking coward!" He took a deep breath and choked down a sob. He seemed to be gathering himself. "Good," I thought, "maybe there's hope for him, after all."

"I reached the inner panel and closed the gate behind me before they could catch me! I heard fighting after that...I couldn't tell what the hell was going on out there. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it sounded like one person was fighting all six of them! The muties were going ape-shit, screaming and firing wildly. In the midst of all of it, I could hear a single loud gunshot from time to time."

"One man? Are you sure? Who the fuck is crazy enough to take on six Super Mutants with a fucking rifle?"

He shook his head. "It wasn't a rifle! And he wasn't at a distance! It sounded like a revolver, man, I shit you not. Loud, too, like I said. A magnum, maybe? I don't know...I've never gotten to fire one, but a couple of the higher ups back at the Citadel would demo their .44 magnums at the range once in a while. It sounded like that."

"It doesn't add up." I said. "Where the fuck are all the bodies? And if this guy was BOS, he'd be in here with you. They would at least check on you and tend to Garcia's body, wouldn't they? I found him out there, slumped over the bags. And who do you have that's good enough to take on six wild muties with a fuckin' revolver? Any of your 'higher ups' good enough for that kind of work?"

"No." He shook his head again. "Between trying to steady the armor and be precise with that kind of gun...no. The best was Paladin Gunny, and even he would miss a lot. Look, I told you everything I know..."

"What's your name, kid?" I reached out my hand and helped him to his feet. He grabbed my wrist and stood to face me.

"Initiate Carlisle. Thomas Carlisle."

"Alright Tom. Here's the deal...I'm hurt, bad. I need to get to the tower and bed down for the night. And I need you to stay here and stand watch. You don't have to open the gate, but you damned well better stay awake. I have to heal up, or I'm gonna die out here and you'll probably die too unless I can finish doing what I came to do. You have a radio?"

"Yeah, but the range is shit. Garcia and I haven't been able to reach anyone on any channel since we got here." He tossed the radio to me, and I caught it with a grimace. I reached into my pocket, grabbed the box of .32 ammo I took from stumpy and handed it to him.

"Let me worry about that. I think I can boost the range and with any luck, the cavalry should be here in the morning." I turned to the elevator, pushed the button and glanced over my shoulder. "You just hold tight and no matter what, DO NOT let anyone in here. If anyone comes near, fire two shots into the sky and retreat to the elevator, you hear me?"

He nodded and I turned to face the elevator doors as they opened before me. I stepped in and activated the panel. The doors slid shut and the rickety old elevator rose with a lurch...


	2. Pride

I stood in the center of a long city street. The road was crammed with undamaged, yet abandoned cars. They were pre-war models, and there were thousands of them, packed tightly as far as the eyes could see. The scene stretched to the horizon in either direction. The buildings reached to the sky like mute sentinals, awaiting the judgment of the world. My vision seemed distorted like an image through a fish-eye lens. Everything seemed…twisted. It was all wrong. I could hear the wind howl, but felt no breeze. I called out, "HELLLLLOOOO?" but couldn't hear myself. There was no sound at all, until about 15 seconds later….an echo. I shuddered as own voice growled back at me. "HELLLLL…OOOO!"

I slowly began to make my way down the street. I didn't know where I was going, or even why, but I couldn't just stand there and look at the scenery, could I? I guess I just decided that one direction was as good as the other. Deep growling voices began to taunt me from behind boarded up windows, darkened doorways and pitch black stairwells. The harsh gravelly voices began to call out to me as I walked.

I began to hurry along, working my way over, around and through the snarl of traffic that filled the street. Climbing onto the hood of a large blue car, I looked ahead and saw a large circular clearing in the traffic. The cars were arranged in a ring, and at the center was an enormous demonic looking creature.

I had seen one of these gruesome fuckers before. A wastelander was fighting one as I approached the Super Duper Mart a few days before. "Deathclaw," he identified it after I helped him kill it. The thing was roughly 9 feet tall, pretty much made of muscle, with razor sharp claws and teeth. Its skin was scaly and as tough as armor, but that didn't stop it from being fast as fuck. The only saving grace about fighting a Deathclaw, he said, was the fact that they are basically mindless. They possess almost no intelligence, only malice. The bottom line: if you want to survive an encounter with a Deathclaw, you'd better have a shitload of firepower, a plan of action, and the ability to keep your cool.

The creature inside the ring of cars was every bit of that, and yet somehow much, much worse. It was easily twice the size of the Deathclaw I had seen that day. The beast was at least 15 feet tall, and surrounded by corpses of all types. Men, women, old, young, white, black, asian, hispanic and everything in between. Hundreds of bodies were spread across the ring. The thing paced back and forth, stomping on bodies, slashing at the torsos with its massive claws and every now and then, it would rip a limb off and strip the flesh from the bone with one bite from its powerful jaws.

Almost every single corpse was headless…some were missing arms, others were missing legs. I looked around, and quickly discovered where the heads were. They laid in a large pile next to a car. The faces were in agony, and clearly still alive! Their eyes were darting about wildly, a look of panic, pain and terror was on every visage. I wanted to vomit, but I was too fucking scared to do anything at all.

The huge beast turned to face me. I wanted to run, but couldn't move. The Deathclaw pointed at me with one absurdly long claw. Again, everything seemed twisted and distorted. It was 20 feet away from me, yet I swear the arm was stretching towards me until it was only a few feet away from my face. I stared into the creature's eyes and realized they were nothing more than hollow sockets.

"WELLLLLLLLCOMMMMMEEEE…" he growled.

I didn't know what to do or say. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS PLACE?" I shouted. This time I could hear my voice, but it sounded hollow. There was no echo at all.

Bright orange flames rose in the monster's empty eye sockets and he laughed brutally. It was the most terrible thing I could imagine. I wanted to leave. I would have given anything to be away from this place.

"WELCOME…TO…ETERNITY…" The creature said, and resumed his guttural laugh.

I was racked with despair, and fell to my knees on the hood of the car. Tears streaked down my face, and I was left with nothing but empty hopelessness.

Someplace nearby, a loud siren began to wail, followed by another and another. I looked towards the heavens and saw the smoke filled trails of hundreds of missiles as they streaked across the sky. The screeching of the sirens rose to a deafening crescendo, and the sky became a searing white veil that scorched my eyeballs as the first of the missiles struck the earth…

Chapter 2 - Pride.

I woke with a start. The screeching in my head was unbearable, and the bright, harsh light felt like a laser cutting into my brain. My ribs screamed with pain. "What the FUCK?" I shouted.

Slowly, I began to remember where I was. It was morning, and I was still in The Monument. The high pitched shriek was coming from the rising elevator. I blinked my eyes heavily, forcing them to focus through the blinding light of the rising sun.

Last night, before I finally crashed, I did what I could to tend to my wounds and connected Three Dog's precious fucking dish to the transmission station in the tower. Then, I rigged up the radio that Tom had given me and used the boosted signal to transmit an S.O.S on the Brotherhood's frequency. Finally, I chugged the last of the whiskey, and passed the fuck out.

I was still groggy as hell, but I managed to struggle to my feet, and reached for the Assault Rifle that had saved my life last night. _"God damn…I'm gonna have to give you a name, sweetheart."_ I thought to myself, as I kissed the stock of the weapon. I had a pretty good idea of who was coming up in the elevator, but as far as I was concerned, no matter who it was, I'd rather be holding a gun than snoozing in the fuckin' corner.

The car stopped and I stood slightly to the left of the doors, about four feet away. I brought the gun up and shouted to the door, "Whooo iiiiiis iiiiiit?" in a high, sweet sounding pitch.

"It's Lyons, you stupid asshole!" came the terse reply.

Sarah Lyons. Leader of the Lyon's Pride. She was a tough ass chick, but also very easy on the eyes. She had a pretty face, with bright blue eyes that shone with intelligence. Her blond hair was pulled back in a pony tail that somehow made her look innocent and unassuming. I quickly discovered that she was neither of those things. Sarah was a fucking warrior.

We met yesterday morning as I was making my way to the Galaxy News Radio building, and it was definitely a memorable first impression. She and her troops agreed to escort me to the building, or at least that was the plan at first. We were ambushed as soon as we reached GNR square, and basically ended up saving each other's asses. Everyone present knew the truth and if nothing else, we shared a mutual respect that comes with surviving.

I laughed and lowered my weapon as the door slid open. She stepped through and right away I could tell she was angry. "What the fuck did I tell you? We are NOT here to baby-sit lost wasters!"

My eyebrows clinched together in annoyance. "Hold it right there, god damnit!" I shot back. "I got fucked up out here doing work for that asshole you guys are protecting, so choose your next words very carefully!"

She lowered her eyes, finally noticing the gaping red wound to my shoulder and the tape wrapped around my naked torso. The anger in her face quickly changed to concern. "How bad is it?"

"Oh, you know…no big deal." I quipped. "Took one in the shoulder, and I was on the wrong end of a sledgehammer. Couple broken ribs, for sure. I need to get to a doctor."

She nodded. "I brought our medic…he's waiting for you." She sighed. "I suppose you did alright. Initiate Carlisle says you probably saved his life. I was just a little pissed. We had to fight our way through, and it was slow going." I could tell that was her way of apologizing, and it was good enough for me.

"I didn't save him," I shook my head. "Someone else did that. I just got him back on his feet. You'll have to ask him to tell you what happened, because I'm not sure I believe what he described. Anyway…are you ready to get the fuck out of here?" I handed my rifle to her, and grunted as I pulled my bloody t-shirt over my head.

"Yeah…I imagine you'd like to get those ribs looked at." She said, stepping into the elevator.

I scooped up my backpack, draped my jacket over my shoulder and stepped in after her. "You must have read my fuckin' mind…" I grinned, and pushed the button.

Neither of us said anything on the way down, because there was really no point. The Brotherhood definitely had reason to be interested in Galaxy News Radio's survival, and I knew the score. They were going to want a debriefing as soon I got back.

I'd only been outside the Vault for three weeks, but I had known authoritative types my whole life. Wasteland or Vault, it's all the same. Knowledge is power, and they were going to want to know where I'd been, what I'd seen and who was out there. That was fine with me. Hell, it made sense. Information has always been the world's most valuable commodity. I'd share what I knew, but nothing in this wasteland is free. When the questions came, I'd be ready with a few of my own.

The car reached the bottom of the elevator shaft, and the doors opened. Sarah stepped out first, and I followed. A couple of the Lyon's Pride troops were sitting around on supply boxes, talking to Tom. The three of them stood at attention and smiled at us. I recognized one of them from our encounter the day before. He was a huge motherfucker…easily 6'6" and built like a brick shithouse. He stepped forward and reached out to shake my hand. I obliged him, and took a moment to read the name etched into his armor. Knight A. Carlisle. Ah. Tom's big brother, then. "Tom tells me you really came through for him last night. Thanks."

"He's a good kid." I nodded to Tom, who smiled in reply. "I wouldn't mind talking about that later, though." I added. I was still a little pissed off that these guys would put such a young kid in a suit of armor and send him into such a dangerous area.

"They're impressed." Sarah said as we made our way toward the gate. "On the way out here, our radio man said Three Dog has been going crazy, hollering about how everyone in the Capital Waste can hear him now. He's also been going on about 'the kid from one-oh-one.' To hear him tell it, you're going to be the biggest celebrity since Herbert fucking Dashwood," she laughed.

I chuckled. "Yeah, right. All in a day's work," Just then, my right leg buckled and I stumbled, clutching my side.

"Sit down." She told me. I wasn't about to argue, and took a seat on one of the boxes. "Thompson! Go find Hendrix and tell him to get his ass in here now!"

"Yes ma'am!" came the reply, as the other trooper went to the gate and jabbed the button. The large gate opened and Thompson hurried out.

"Don't worry…Hendrix is a great medic." She said, as she sat on a large box and faced me. "He's a gruff son of a bitch, though, so don't antagonize him." She grinned.

"Aww…where's the fun in that?" I laughed.

She shook her head and sighed. "Are you ever serious about anything?"

"Of course I am…when the situation is serious enough." I replied.

"You don't call this serious?" she asked, incredulous.

"It is what it is. What do you want me to do, cry? Bitch and moan about it? All I can do is hope for the best, right?"

"I guess so. Maybe I'm just not used to you, I guess. You're not like anyone I've ever met. It's like…" she shook her head again. "It's like the wasteland hasn't beaten you down…yet."

"I'm my father's son." I shrugged. "He's definitely an optimist. I'm a lot like him, I suppose. He taught me to keep a stiff upper lip, and to be a problem solver. Nobody wants to hear someone whine about their problems, do they? He used to tell me that the world needs more doers. Now, more than ever. That's why I need to find him. He thinks he can save the world, and I'm afraid that he's willing to die trying."

"Sounds a lot like my father. The Brotherhood sent him and his men out here to find technology all those years ago, but when he saw how the people on the east coast were living…he said the choice was simple. What was the point of saving technology if everyone left alive was suffering?"

"He casts a big shadow, your father?" I asked.

"He used to. All my life, I've been trying to make him proud. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know he's proud of me. It's just…he's been different lately. Distant. It's like he's hiding out in that fucking Citadel.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't expect him to be out here, doing what we do. He's not a young man anymore, and the Brotherhood still needs a leader like him." She paused. "What I mean is, we're doing what we can, but the B.O.S is in trouble. We need supplies. We need troops. Nothing is easy out here, but when the Outcasts left, our numbers took a huge hit. So did morale. My squad is out here fighting every day to clear the ruins, but the Brotherhood as a whole could be doing so much more. He doesn't want to risk anything any more."

"What would you have him do?" I asked, as a burly looking bearded man walked through the gate. I made eye contact with Lyons and nodded in the guy's direction.

The man came over and set a decent sized med kit on the box next to me. "Stand up," he ordered. I complied, making eye contact with Sarah again. She smirked at me and nodded.

"Shirt." He said sharply.

She wasn't lying, the guy was gruff. I didn't mind. He could wear panties and lingerie if he wanted, as long as he could get me fixed up, who gives a shit? Again, I complied, grimacing as I pulled my T-shirt over my head. Hendrix reached into his kit, and produced a sharp looking knife. "Arms up, and don't move." He said. I raised my arms and he slid the side of the knife beneath the tape along my uninjured left side and began to slice it away from my body.

Sarah continued, "Well, for one thing, we need to find out where the Mutants are coming from. We kill them on a daily basis. Some days, we kill A LOT of them. So why have we been seeing more and more of them? It doesn't make any sense at all. They are fucking asexual! We've done fucking autopsies, isn't that right Hendrix?"

Hendrix grunted affirmatively. "This'll hurt," was all he said, just before he jabbed a stimpak into the area above the gunshot wound. I winced, then relaxed as I felt the familiar rush of the medicine going to work. He was already holding a pair of forceps in his other hand, and wasted no time in burying the tip deep into my flesh.

"ARRRRRGGGGHHH!" I cried out, as he dug into my shoulder.

"Told ya." He said, as he yanked the bullet out.

My teeth were mashed together and my fists were both clenched tightly. My eyes began to water and a thin stream of blood rolled between my fingers and dripped to the earth.

"Souvenir?" He asked with a chuckle, as he held the bloody hunk of metal between the forceps.

"Fuck you." I replied through clenched teeth.

He laughed so loudly it could only be described as a bellow, before opening the forceps and dropping the mushroom shaped bullet on the supply box. Here was a man who clearly enjoyed his job.

He reached into his kit and grabbed some kind of a gel in a small bottle along with a large patch-shaped bandage. He spread a bit of the gel on my bloody wound and the blood began to coagulate almost immediately. He capped the bottle and handed it to me, before slapping the bandage over the area. "Use the gel daily, and you'll heal up fine. Same shit that's in a stimpak. Alright then, arms up again."

Sarah went on. "We also have the Enclave to deal with. This 'President Eden' is all over the radio. My father thinks it's a looped recording, but I don't think so. We've been getting reports back from some of our recon troops out in the wasteland about seeing troops in strange power armor. Various encampments that look recently abandoned, that kind of thing."

"Well, what about the Outcasts? Could be them, right?" I asked, as Hendrix poked and prodded around my ribcage.

"The spotters don't think so. They know what the Outcast guys look like. Outcasts are still Brotherhood, whether they like it or not. Their armor looks just like ours, I don't give a fuck if you paint it black."

Just then, Hendrix poked at the right spot, and I damn near passed out. "GAAHHH!" I cried out and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yup. Definitely broken." Hendrix said and pushed against the spot again, just for fun.

"Mother-fucking cock sucker!" I shouted.

"Easy…." Sarah chided me. Hendrix chuckled again. I forced myself to calm down, but I wanted to kill the fucking guy.

"Internal injuries?" I asked shakily.

"I don't think so." He replied. "Have you coughed up any blood?"

"Yeah, a little bit after I took a fall." I answered.

"Open your mouth."

I complied and he pulled the side of my mouth to get a look. "You bit your cheek, dipshit." He laughed, and wiped away my tear. Macho asshole. And I thought I was bad.

"You'll be fine. First off, don't wrap your ribs again. You'll constrict your breathing, and it doesn't do a God damned thing for your ribs. Make sure you take some deep breaths every once in a while and cough a few times each hour. That's gonna hurt like hell at first, but you have to do it. Also, you don't have to do this every night…but try to sleep on the injured side whenever you can."

"You're fucking with me, right?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

"Just do it," he sighed. "You'll breathe easier at night."

"Got anything for the pain?" I asked hopefully.

"Get your own booze, kid. I'm a medic, not a fuckin' bartender." He replied, as he closed his kit. "I'm done here."

"Thanks, Hendrix." Sarah piped up, as Hendrix picked up the box and walked towards the gate.

"Mmm hmm." He murmered over his shoulder as he disappeared from view.

I reached down and picked up my shirt. Gingerly, I put it back on, and then pulled my trader's jacket on. "So…where to now?" I asked Lyons.

"We're going back to GNR. I'm guessing you'd like to have a talk with Three Dog, right?" She suggested.

"Fuckin A," I replied. "None of this would be necessary if he'd just told me where my dad went."

"Alright, but just remember, Three Dog's one of the good guys, so don't kill him. He tells it like it is, and the Brotherhood needs him, just to keep people from listening to the bullshit on that Enclave station, if nothing else."

"I promise I won't kill him." I replied, holding up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

"What?" She replied with a confused look on her face. I forgot, not everyone out here has had the opportunity to read the same books I had.

"Nevermind." I said with a shrug. "Let's hit it."

She nodded. "Alright…and don't worry, there are five of us heading back. The others are posted up outside, guarding the perimeter." She said, and walked towards the open gate. I waited till she reached the gate before I reached down, picked up the bloody bullet and slipped it into a pocket. _"My souvenir…fuckin right."_ I thought, as I picked up my backpack and rifle and followed Lyons out to the sandbags.

The mall was quiet, and Sarah began giving orders as soon as we stepped through the gate. "Edwards, Jenkins and Thompson, post up here and secure the monument. The tower is now equipped with a radio, so Jenkins, you'll be the eyes in the sky. Keep us posted and we'll have reinforcements out here to relieve you as soon as possible. In the meantime, you three just sit tight and let us know if the situation changes."

"YES MA'AM!" The three troops replied in unison.

I glanced around and found what I was looking for. A small mound marked the spot where the troops had buried Garcia. His helmet laid on top of it. The memorial to the soldier was fitting, and it was more than most of the people who died in the wasteland would ever receive.

Sarah turned to the rest of us. "Alright, we're getting back to GNR on the double. Pride, let's move out."

The trip back to the GNR building was uneventful. There wasn't much to see but a ton of ghoul corpses, some dead muties and the scorched ruins of the city. Every now and then, a loud gunshot could be heard coming from the direction of the monument. My best guess is that Jenkins was in the tower, sniping the mutants as they patrolled. He probably wanted payback for Garcia. I didn't blame him a bit. Kill 'em all.

We pressed on, making decent time in spite of the way I was carrying myself, and arrived at the Galaxy News Radio plaza after about an hour and a half.

The troops all began to post up outside the building, and Knight Carlisle pulled off his helmet as he made his way over to me. I fell into stride next to him and he started the conversation. "I'm Alex Carlisle but everyone just calls me Animal." Seemed fitting to me, the guy was built like a Yao Guai. "Tom is my little brother, in case you hadn't guessed."

I nodded.

"He's the only family I have left. We used to live out near the Jury Street metro. Our parents and older brother were killed by those fucking mutants when I was 12. Tom was only 6 years old, man. We spent the next year out there in the fucking waste…just trying to stay alive."

"Jesus Christ. How did you do it?"

"We hid mostly. Our dad was a real bastard." He paused, a wistful look on his face. "He taught us a lot about surviving out in the wasteland. What we could eat, the best places to search for supplies, shit like that. He had us learning to shoot as soon as we could hold a gun."

I stopped walking and faced him. "He sounds like a good man."

Alex nodded. "The best. He put his ass on the line every day, just to take care of his family. He barely slept. I don't think he wanted us to know the things he did for us, but I could see the toll it took on him. It's funny…these guys like to call me Animal, but I'm nothing compared to my father. I'm here to tell you, he was one tough son of a bitch. I saw him kill four raiders in as many seconds, just for coming near our home." He laughed, shaking his head.

He went on, "I spotted them running up towards the perimeter fence and turned to holler at him, but he was already holding that old hunting rifle of his and waiting calmly. He had a look on his face…like he didn't have a fuckin' care in the world. He fired one warning shot into the sky, then just started popping heads. He didn't wait more than two seconds before he just annihilated them. I still wonder about that sometimes…"

"You wonder what the warning shot was for…they never even had enough time to stop running, did they?" I asked with a chuckle.

He laughed again, loudly this time. "Exactly. I think it was just his way of amusing himself. Trying to keep sane, by doing things that only made sense to him."

I had to laugh at that. I can relate.

We sat down on the steps leading to the front door of GNR. Alex went on. "Anyway, it was just the two of us after they died. We survived out there for a year before the Brotherhood took us in. They saved our lives. It would have just been a matter of time before one of us died out there in that fucking wasteland. Either I would've died and left Tom alone, or he would have died and I would have lost my fucking mind."

"I understand…" I paused. "Tell me something…why did they send him in with Garcia? That place was crawling with mutants! What the hell is the Brotherhood thinking, stuffing a kid into a suit of armor and sending him into the belly of the fucking beast?

"The Brotherhood is stretched thin. The Super Mutants are thinning the ranks, man." He replied. "It's like no matter how many we kill, they just keep coming. They have to be breeding somewhere, is what I think. Who the hell knows? All I know is that there are more of them than there are of us, and we're losing the war. That's how my fifteen year old brother ended up holding a gun in the middle of that shithole. Believe me, I'm not thrilled about it either. But it's the life we chose. Like I said…they saved our lives.

"Did Tom tell you the same story he told me?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "One man with a revolver against six pissed off muties? Doesn't make much sense, does it? But I'll tell you this: Tom might not be much of a fighter, but I've never, ever heard that kid tell a lie. All his life, he was the good one. He never got in trouble with Mom or Dad. If that's what he says happened, then I gotta believe him."

"Then his story just proves my point! A Paladin and an Initiate alone with a shitty radio? They never stood a fucking chance out there. Of course the mutants are gonna take advantage of a situation like that! You know as well as I do, he's lucky to be alive." I sighed. "And now we're back to the million dollar question…who the fuck is good enough to kill six mutants with a revolver?"

He had a distant look in his eye. Then, shaking his head, he rose to his feet. "I don't know…all my heroes are dead," he sighed. "Thanks again for helping Thomas. Take care."

I rose and shook his hand. I could tell Alex knew more than he was letting on, but if he didn't want to talk, what the fuck could I do about it? "You too," I said as I turned and walked away towards the building.

"Alright…time to get down to business," I said to nobody in particular as I walked up the steps and entered the lobby. I forced myself to ignore the pain in my ribs, and strode through the lobby, up the stairs and into Three Dog's studio.

"Three Dog!" I hollered as I threw open the door. I stalked into the room and straight up the stairs to the broadcast room.

Three Dog rose from his chair and stood to face me. "Heeeeey! If it isn't the savior of the wasteland…great work out there, man!"

"Fuck that shit!" I growled as I grabbed him by his jacket and lifted him towards me. "I almost got killed in that fucking museum! Tell me where my dad is right now, god damnit!"

"Hey now, there's no need fo…" He stammered. I yanked him towards me, and smashed my forehead into his nose. That hurt. My side screamed with pain, but I didn't let it show.

"Fuck you!" I shouted. "My dad…NOW!"

Blood gushed from his broken nose as I let go of him. He fell on his ass and started talking immediately. "He went to Rivet City, man! Just calm the fuck down! He said he needed to find some lady doctor friend of his named Madison Li. That's all I know, so just take it easy!"

"How do I get there?" I growled menacingly as I towered over him.

"Just head east from the Jefferson Memorial. It's a huge fucking aircraft carrier…you can't miss it." He replied. "God damn, man….you've got some fucking temper. I'm sorry you got hurt, okay? Sometimes that sort of shit just happens! I told you what I knew about the place. I never said it would be easy."

"You should have told me where my dad went in the first fucking place! I probably would have helped you either way, because you were right about one thing: your message IS important. But you're a pretentious fucking asshole, so pay attention. We are not even. You still owe me, and don't you fuckin' forget it! If you ever try to blackmail me again, they'll be mopping up pieces of your skull for weeks, got it?"

He nodded, and raised his hand towards me. Did this guy actually expect me to help him up?

I turned and strode down the stairs, leaving Three Dog in a heap on the floor, bleeding all over his shirt.


	3. The Hearts of Men

CHAPTER 3: The Hearts of Men

It had been a week since I'd left GNR and set out for Rivet City. I met with Doctor Li, who, as it turns out, is a complete bitch. She wasn't any help at all. I could tell she had seen my dad recently, but she refused to tell me where he went. She was an infuriating woman, but sadly, it wasn't like I could just beat the information out of her-I knew my father wouldn't approve of me kicking the shit out of an old friend.

I was out of options, at least for now, so I left for Megaton yesterday morning and traveled all day. I arrived around 7 pm and quickly got down to business.

First, I returned to Craterside Supply and talked to the idiot proprietor, Moira Brown. There's definitely something…"not right" about her. She's far too cheery and upbeat for my taste. I have the feeling that you could slap her in the face and she'd be too stupid to take offense. Not to mention, she was another person who doesn't mind putting other people's lives at risk to serve her own needs, a philosophy that many people seem to share outside the vault. Overall, a genuinely irritating person.

The first time I was here, she asked me to help with some book she was working on. She said she wanted to write a "Wasteland Survival Guide" or some shit. It seemed like a pretty stupid idea to me, considering most people out here can't even read, but fuck it. She offered to pay me well, and the errand seemed pretty straight forward, so I took her up on it.

The afternoon before I snuck into the DC ruins to find Three Dog, I took a quick detour to the Super Duper Mart. It was on the way to the city, which was another reason I agreed to help Moira in the first place. My task was simple: all I had to do was locate some chems from the pharmacy, as well as any food stashes I could find. Aside from the pissed off Deathclaw I had to help kill in the parking lot, the job turned out to be a cakewalk.

The place was full of raiders. Well, it was full of raider corpses, anyway. Somebody, or a group of somebodies, had been there before me, and they certainly made a fucking mess of the place. I didn't give a shit…whatever the hell had happened, it only ended up making my task a thousand times easier. All I had to do was pick a few locks, and loot both stashes. Hell, I even made off with the assault rifle that ended up saving my life later that night. I was in and out in less than 10 minutes, and headed into the DC ruins later that evening.

Upon my return, Moira was happy to see me. True to her word, she paid up right away and even let me keep the chems I found. Now, I'm no dealer, but I was happy to take the shit off her hands. You never know when you might run across a junkie willing to trade some valuable gear for a quick fix. Not my fucking problem, right?

I stocked up on a few supplies and Moira just jabbered on as I shopped. She told me that a "scary looking man" was in town asking about me. She went on to say that he'd been spending a lot of time at Moriarty's Saloon, so when I finished at Craterside, that's where I ended up.

The bar was fairly busy, so I decided to make the most of it. Moriarty had the radio turned up, and Three Dog was actually playing some decent music. Everyone was having a good time, drinking and socializing. Hell, even Jericho was having a good time and behaving himself. Or at least behaving as well you could expect from a guy like him. I hung out, and wasted time just partying and shooting the shit with some of the patrons.

As the night started to wind down, the alcohol had whittled away most of my inhibitions so I decided to indulge myself. I pulled Nova aside and started talking business. Eventually, the two of us made our way upstairs and I spent the next few hours fucking her brains out. She was a fuckin' sexual black belt, I shit you not. That woman sucked, fucked and rode my cock till we were both driven to the brink of exhaustion. I can't say I went in that room with a lot of sexual experience, but to a woman like Nova, that's never an issue. What I may have lacked in knowledge, I made up for with a healthy dose of enthusiasm, stamina and creativity. My physical "gifts" also turned out to be an asset, and I don't give a shit if it's arrogant of me to say so. She came over and over and showed no interest in stopping. I could tell she preferred me to the usual dirt bag waster that she usually had to roll. By the time it was all said and done, we had fucked three times, and if I could have afforded it, I might've taken a shot at four.

After we were finished, I paid Nova a hundred caps for the good work, and added an additional hundred to rent a different room for the night. I bedded down and had my first good, deep sleep in more than two weeks.

I awoke this morning refreshed and well rested. It's amazing what a good lay can do for a man, but even though the memory of last night was still fresh, I still had Sarah on my mind. In fact, truth be told, she was on my mind last night too. I wasn't concerned. Like I said, Nova was a pro…I knew she wouldn't mind one way or another.

I got dressed and strolled downstairs around noon. Nova was hanging out, leaning on the bar and smoking a cigarette. She smiled and winked at me. Gob was behind the bar, cleaning glasses with a nasty looking rag. I made the decision right then that I'd rather just buy a bottle than drink anything out of those glasses. Moriarty was sitting at a small table near the bar, counting his caps. I pulled up a chair, took a seat across from him and came right out with it. "I understand someone in town has been asking about me."

He just went on counting, so I just waited. When he finished, he looked up and nodded. "Aye. Man named Burke's been hangin' around the last two or three days. Well dressed fella. Always comes in around 1 or 2." He finally said.

"What did you tell him?" I pressed.

"Only as much as he paid for…" he replied with a wink. He tilted his head towards the bar, and shouted. "GOB! Get yer rottin' ass over here, you lazy shite!"

I folded my arms to my chest and leaned back into the chair, as Gob rushed over. "Yeah, boss?" The ghoul inquired.

"Bring me a nice bottle of scotch, and…what's yer drink, boy? Whiskey?"

I nodded.

"A bottle of whiskey fer the lad." He added. "NOW, god damnit!"

Gob practically fell over himself in a rush to do Colin's bidding. I felt bad for the ghoul, but their arrangement was absolutely none of my business. Gob returned moments later with the two bottles, and two filthy shot glasses.

Moriarty sighed. "Jesus, Mary n' Joseph…clean the fuckin' glasses properly, Gob…"

I have to say, Moriarty seemed much more menacing when he was calm than he did when he was yelling. When he was riled up, he almost seemed like a caricature, but when the man was truly aggravated, he got quieter. That's when I got the feeling he was at his most dangerous.

Gob must have agreed with that assessment, and stammered, "Oh…yeah. Right away, boss," as he hurried away.

Moriarty turned back to me and continued. "Where the fuck was I? Oh, right…he said his name was Mr. Burke. A quiet fella, but those're the ones ya gotta watch, eh? He just comes in, sits in the corner and orders me strongest moonshine. Took 'im nearly an hour before he ever asked a question."

"Did you tell him my name?" I asked. I don't know why I was being so protective of my name, but I'd been trying to stay below the radar since I'd left the vault. Staying anonymous seemed safer to me, for some reason. Colin Moriarty was one of the few people outside the vault who knew it, which I can't say pleased me one bit. It was, however, the only reason I believed him when he told me that we'd met years before, when I was a baby.

He laughed. "He didn't offer quite enough caps fer that info, I'm sad ta say. I figure since everyone's just been calling you 'Nomad', the secret must be worth something to ya. Clever of ya', by the way." He held his bottle of scotch towards me and toasted.

I snatched up the whiskey and rapped the neck of the bottle against his. We each took a large gulp from our bottles and let out simultaneous exhalations. The taste of the whiskey was like dragon's fire escaping my throat. It was good shit, and I nodded appreciatively to Moriarty.

"Did he say what he wanted with me?" I asked.

"He wouldn't tell. Just said he had an offer for ya'. A job, of some kind."

"Yeah…looks like I'm becoming a regular fucking mercenary." I shrugged, before I took another drink and switched topics. "That fucking DJ is a real asshole, by the way. Dumb bastard damn near got me killed."

He chuckled. "Aye. Sent ya on a mission, did he?"

"You might call it that." I nodded. "I'd call it a fucking suicide mission. He sent me into a huge fuckin' deathtrap. The city is completely over-run by Super Mutants. I'm lucky to be alive."

"At least the customers have been enjoyin' the music." He grinned as he motioned to the large pile of caps spread over his half of the table. "Three Dog was certainly going on about ya' that day. Said you're a regular fuckin' hero!" He laughed. "He hasn't been talking nearly as much since then, though."

"Yeah, I've been listening." I replied. "Stupid asshole. That's all I need, is for everyone in the wastes to be on the lookout for me…"

"Ya' don't like being a wasteland celebrity?" He continued to chide.

"What do you think? The last thing I need right now is a bunch of fucking distractions." I shot back. "Plus, if there's one thing I've learned since I got out here, is that for every good person who needs help, there are ten mother fuckers who would kill you just for the clothes on your back." I took another hard pull of whiskey. "I don't need that kind of attention. It'll just become a target on my back before long."

"Aye." He agreed. "You're as sharp as yer ol' man, I'll give ya that. It's one of the main things I like about ya. Any luck locatin' him?"

"Not really." I replied "He went to Rivet, but he's already been there and gone."

"I wouldn't worry yerself too much about yer daddy. He's a resourceful man, if ever I've met one."

"Any idea where he might have gone?" I pried.

"Sorry, lad. I told ya' everything I know."

We conversed about mostly random bullshit after that. The drinks kept flowing, and a few people began to trickle in. Moriarty began telling me about how he ended up in Megaton, and how he was one of the few people who had actually seen the world.

I continued to drink as he told me his history. The more I drank, the more paranoid I was becoming. I liked Moriarty, but I know better than to trust the man any further than I could throw him.

_"This better not be a fucking set-up."_ I thought to myself before taking another swig from the bottle. I was getting drunker by the minute and was only halfway listening as he went on about how his father was a "genuine fucking explorer, lad!"

I nodded absentmindedly, and glanced towards the door. I was pretty buzzed and it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain my focus. The booze was numbing my senses, and I had to be careful not to get too fucked up.

Moriarty continued. "Me family took the long boat ride over here when I was just a wee boy. When such a thing was unheard of! Hell, it still is!" He downed another shot of scotch, and motioned to Gob.

Christ Almighty, the man could drink. I originally started drinking with the intention of trying to pry a little info from Moriarty, and figured maybe his tongue would loosen up after a few shots.

Honestly, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. I realize now, he had the same idea. Get the kid drunk, and see what info I would share. I had underestimated him, in a big way. After he gulped down his 6th or 7th shot, it became very clear that the man was a professional. I should have fucking known better. Moriarty had been buying and selling information for years, and I could tell that he was just toying with me. I wouldn't be surprised to find out the whole "Irish brogue" thing was just an act.

"Hold that thought." I interrupted as I stood and made my way towards the door. "Gotta take a piss…"

I was stalling, we both knew it, but Moriarty just nodded and leaned back in his chair.

I stopped dead in my tracks just before I reached the door. "_What the fuck?"_ My head shot to the left and I saw the well dressed man sitting in the corner. He was reading some pre-war book, but I couldn't make out the title against the worn out binding. _"How the fuck did I miss him on the way in?"_ I'd been keeping an eye on the door all fucking day.

The man's eyes peered above his sunglasses and met mine. He rose to his feet and closed the book as I made my way over to him. "Mr. Burke, is it?" I asked.

"Indeed. Have a seat, Mr….?" he grinned as he motioned to an empty chair next to him. I already didn't like anything about him. He wore a dingy white business suit, dark, cloudy sunglasses, and a dark colored fedora. Something about him made me very uneasy.

"Nomad is fine." I replied and took a seat in the chair.

"Mr. Nomad, then." He sat, and began talking immediately. "I've been sent here because you've caught the interest of my employer. He's a man with many connections and has decided that you may be of some use to him. He has a job offer he'd like to extend to you." The wide grin had never left his face. If he intended for his smile to set me at ease, he had failed miserably. I'd seen that look before. It was the smile of a very dangerous and deranged individual…the look of a man just on the edge of insanity.

"Who is your employer?" I shot back without hesitation.

"He wishes to remain anonymous for the time being. Rest assured, he is a man of many resources. You would be paid more than handsomely." He replied.

This guy was so fucking smooth, he was slimy. He was well spoken, but had the mannerisms of a fucking predator.

I played along. "What's the job?"

"It's quite simple, really." He shrugged. "My employer believes this town is a blight. A cobbled together eye sore. The very fact that it's inhabitants would build a settlement around an active nuclear bomb serves as testimony to the folly of it's existence and to their stupidity. He wishes for you to make IT and THEM disappear."

"You must be joking!" I shot back.

"I assure you, I am quite serious." He shook his head.

"How? I'm pretty sure I'm not qualified to fuck around with a nuclear bomb! I'm as handy as the next guy, but that's asking a fuckin' LOT."

"And we're prepared to pay you a fuckin' LOT." He replied mockingly. "The job itself couldn't be simpler."

He reached into his pocket and produced a small electronic device.

"Just attach this receiver to the key pad on the bomb. Once it's connected, meet me at this location." He said as he produced a crude map from the inside pocket of his suit.

"If it's so fucking simple, why don't you do it yourself?" I asked. I reached over and took the receiver and the map from him.

"I assure you, nothing would bring me greater joy. But, I am merely...a recruiter. My employer wants you to do it. That's enough for me. Consider it your job application, a gateway to bigger and better things."

"What's the pay?" I asked nonchalantly, as I tucked the items into the cargo pocket on my pants.

"Five hundred caps." He replied.

"You'll have to make it a grand if you want me to even consider something like this." I said as I rose to my feet.

"Have it your way. One thousand caps, it is." He said with a nod. "He told me that if you would agree to perform a task such as this for five hundred caps, I was to turn you down. So, well done. I have a feeling you'll fit right in. Just meet me at that location when the job is done."

The man repulsed me, and I'd heard enough. My unease went deeper than the fact that he had just asked me to commit mass murder by vaporizing Megaton. That was bad enough. There was something much more sinister about him. He acted like this was the kind of thing he did every day. His eyes practically lit up when he mentioned the bomb. He also seemed to have a personal interest in me, which set my nerves on end.

"We'll see." I muttered to myself, as I walked to the door…


	4. A New Lease on Life

Chapter 4: A New Lease On Life

It had been 4 days since my encounter with Burke, and I spent them trying to weigh my options. I liked some of the people of Megaton, it was true. On the other hand, a thousand caps could go a long way towards helping me find my father. He was the reason I left the vault in the first place, and I owed it to him to keep my eyes on the prize.

Eventually, I made my decision and headed to Craterside Supply just before closing time. Moira was her usual chatty and cheerful self, but I didn't plan on hanging out for too long. I gathered the supplies I needed, and left the store without having to spend too much time listening to her.

The sun had set, but it was still early in the evening. I headed to Moriarty's and took a seat in the same chair I had sat in a few days earlier. I didn't know if Burke would be in, but I had a strong suspicion that he'd turn up.

I didn't have to wait long. After maybe an hour, he walked in, and immediately came over to sit next to me. "Good evening, Mr. Nomad. Have you come to a decision?"

I nodded. "Tomorrow night…I'll be there."

Burke grinned that unsettling grin of his. "My employer will be pleased. He's eager to meet you."

"Rest assured, the feeling is mutual." I forced a smile. I swallowed my drink as I stood up and walked out the door without looking back.

I had waited long enough. The night was dark and cloudy and there weren't many people around. Most of the citizens were either behind locked doors, or at Moriarty's, so I got down to work.

I found a dark corner behind a building and opened my pack. I grabbed a small box of Mentats from the chem stash that Moira had let me keep, and popped one in my mouth. The wafer-like disc dissolved under my tongue and I instantly felt it take effect.

For anyone who doesn't know what popping 'tats feels like, let me describe it. Your mind feels entirely focused. For me at least. I feel like when it hits me, I can look at a thing and know exactly how it works. The shit is amazing when it comes to repairing my gear, or for the type of job I was about to attempt. I'm no junkie, but then again, I'm sure that's what they all say. At any rate, I would be putting myself in significant danger, and I needed any advantage I could get.

Next, I found one of two Stealth Boys I had purchased from Moira. I attached the device to my belt and activated it, instantly disappearing from sight. My body gave off a rippling shimmer when I moved, but as long as I could stay in the shadows and try not to be spotted moving, I would be just fine. The thing was amazing. I had no idea how it actually worked, and had to suppress a Mentats induced curiosity inside me that was dying to take it apart.

I crept my way down to the bomb and opened the access panel to the keypad. I pulled out the device that Burke had given me and my small tool kit. I detached the keypad and after about five minutes of tinkering around, the job was done. I gathered my gear and left Megaton behind.

I set out in the dead of night. The sky was overcast, like a dirty sheet draped over the endless wasteland. As I moved across the rocky area southwest of Megaton, my Stealth Boy finally died, and I saw my limbs begin to reappear. First, my fingertips appeared, then knuckles, hand, wrist, forearm, elbow and so on, until my entire body was revealed. It was very fucking cool.

Tossing the device aside, I pressed on and eventually made it to the open plain. Behind me, the rising sun caused the cloudy sky to glow an eerie blaze of orange. The wind whipped dust and dirt freely across the wide expanse of the wasteland.

The trip took most of the day, but I trudged along, marking the locations of each building I encountered as I passed.

Around 4 in the afternoon, I made my camp in a fairly secure house I'd located along the way. I set my PipBoy to wake me at 9 pm and caught some rest.

I awoke at 8:53 and disabled the alarm setting. After another hour of hiking through the darkness, I made my way to the tower marked on the map. As I neared the large front gate, I crouched in the shadows and watched as a ghoul argued with the security box mounted on the large stone wall surrounding the building.

"I already told you, no fucking zombies allowed!" came the voice from the box.

"I'm no god damned zombie, you asshole smooth-skin! Let me in!" replied the clearly pissed off ghoul.

"Yeah, yeah. Just beat it, you shuffling corpse!" taunted the man on the other end.

I stood and walked towards the ghoul, pressing one finger against my lips and shushing him quietly. The ghoul had a confused look on his face, and reached for a large combat knife on his hip. I wagged my finger and raised my other hand respectfully. He got the picture, and yelled out to the box, "Ahhhh, fuck you pal!"

He motioned for me to follow him, and we hurried away from the gate. We made our way to the southwest, traveling past the entrance to a metro tunnel until we reached a small, abandoned store nearby called "Lucky's"

"What was that all about? Who lives in that tower?" I asked him as we entered the place. It was obvious that the ghoul knew more than I did about the place, and I wanted to know everything I could about it before I went in.

"A racist scumbag named Tenpenny. Him and a bunch of snobby, rich pricks. They think they rule the fucking world just because they have the caps to live in luxury." He replied.

I was looking around as we talked, and scavenging for items I could use. I strolled past some shelves, picking up various items that were scattered around and depositing some of the more useful items into my pack. A small box of cleaner, a small can of cram. I walked up to a mannequin and pulled a pair of cool looking shades from the featureless face.

"And you want to hang out with people like that?" I asked incredulously as I put the glasses on. _"Nice. I could always use a pair of sunglasses,"_ I thought to myself as I pulled the glasses off and settled them onto the top of my head.

"I don't want to hang out WITH them, I want to fucking live LIKE them!" he shot back. "Ghouls are people too, you know! We're not like those fucking ferals! And that place is like a palace! Why should I have to live in a filthy god damned tunnel?"

"Hey, I'm on your side. I'm no ghoul hater. What's your name?" I asked him.

"Roy Phillips. What the fuck is your name?" he replied indignantly.

"Just call me Nomad." I said. "I think we might be able to help each other, Roy. I'm going in there to meet someone. Once I get in, I'll do some looking around and see what I can find out."

"What's in it for you?" He asked.

"If everything goes according to plan, we both stand to gain a lot." I answered. I hoped I was right.

I spent the next 15 minutes or so laying out the plan I had formulated earlier while we were scurrying away to the store. Roy told me what he knew of the tower and after we agreed on a plan and exchanged a few supplies, I left the store and headed back over there.

The tower was quiet as I approached. The wind continued to blow harshly as it had all day and was whipping irradiated dust into every crack and opening available on my clothing. I clutched my jacket tightly against my body and slid the sunglasses down to the bridge of my nose in a vain attempt to keep the dirt out of my eyes. I wished I had worn a hat, but those are the breaks sometimes. I'd just have to keep on the lookout for a good looking baseball cap or something.

I pushed the button on the intercom box, and pressed myself against the wall, trying to seek some shelter from the howling wind.

"For the last time…get the fuck away from here, or I'll personally come out there and feed you your own rotting asshole!" the man on the intercom shouted.

"You blow your boyfriend with that mouth?" I replied in a casual tone.

"What? Oh! I uh, I thought you were someone else," the man stammered.

"I am someone else. Now let me in, I have business with Mr. Tenpenny. He's expecting me." I said forcefully. Name dropping? You bet your ass.

"Right away, sir." The man sighed, and the heavy gate opened slowly.

I couldn't believe the guy was just going to let me in like that. Either I really had been expected, or these clowns must be the world's worst security force. I was amazed that raiders or slavers hadn't torched this fucking place a long time ago.

I stepped through the gate and it immediately began to close behind me. The man on the intercom was dressed in black armor stretched over a tubby paunch. I figure the entire security force must have been comprised of former mercs and tough-guy wasters. It did look like good armor, though. I'd have to remember to ask around and find out where I could get a set like that. You didn't last long out here without being either smart or tough, and this guy didn't look like much of a scholar. No, he looked like a guy whose best days were behind him and just didn't realize it yet. He stopped me with an outstretched hand and a pissed off look on his face.

"My boyfriend, huh? I ought ta break your fuckin' head open for talkin' to me like that, ya punk." He glowered.

I smiled. "You're welcome to try, tubby. Just make sure you don't fuck it up, or by the time you wake up, you could be laying on the other side of that gate. Whoever you THOUGHT you were talking to might still be out there." I taunted. "Hell, a big fucker like you'd probably make a real good feast for a hungry ghoul…you might not wake up at all, get it?" I pushed him aside and started towards the front door of the tower.

"Smart-ass little dickhead." He sighed as he returned to his post. _"I knew this guy was a pretender."_ I thought to myself with a chuckle.

I entered the spacious lobby and took in my surroundings. Jesus Christ, that ghoul wasn't lying…the place was magnificent. A long balcony ran along the perimeter of the room, and huge chandeliers hung lazily from the high ceiling above. Resting between twin staircases that led to the balcony was a worn out security desk. At the desk, a frazzled looking man sat in front of a monitor, scribbling away at paperwork.

"How's it going, friend?" I asked, with a smile.

"I'm not your friend, buddy or pal." He replied without looking up from his work.

"Oh…okay." I decided to start over. "How's it going, you stupid piece of shit?"

That got his attention. He tossed his pen aside and rose to his feet. I would have been worried, but the guy was about 5'6" and couldn't have weighed more than a hundred forty pounds. I probably shouldn't be starting shit with these people, but I decided I couldn't care less about what any of them thought of me.

"It's CHIEF Gustavo to you, kid. Now, you interrupted my work…what the fuck do you want?" He asked.

"I have business with Tenpenny, buddy. Where can I find him?" I inquired.

He pointed to an elevator against the wall opposite the front door. "Top floor. Mr. Tenpenny and Mr. Burke are already waiting for you. A word to the wise…I'd watch the way you talk to THEM. Your smart mouth might get you into more trouble than you can bargain with."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks a lot, pal." I grinned. What a little bitch.

I wasn't quite ready to meet my new "employer" yet, so I decided to look around the building a bit…you know, give myself the tour. The first floor was reserved for several businesses, which was classy, I must admit. There was a clothier, a supply store, a restaurant, and a small tavern.

I made my way into the tavern and sat at the bar. A strange looking combat robot was hovering around, and it took me several minutes to realize that the fucking thing was tending bar! I ordered a flask of whiskey and set 30 caps on the bar. The robot sucked the money up into a tube, floated away and returned with my bottle moments later.

An old man made his way over to me and took a seat at the bar next to me. "Hello there, young fella!" He began. "Name's Dashwood. Herbert 'Daring' Dashwood, at your service!"

"Yeah right. Nice try, old timer! I suppose you want me to buy you a drink?" I replied dismissively.

"Hahaha…you've heard of me! No, no, my boy, I buy all my own drinks! I assure you, I truly am the one and only 'Daring' Dashwood!" He insisted. The man was beaming with pride, and I realized he was telling the truth. Or, at least he believed he was.

"No shit?" I played along. "I've heard quite a few of your adventures on Galaxy News Radio!" The guy may or may not be Herbert Dashwood, but it hardly mattered. I was more interested in getting information.

"Always nice to meet a fan! And what might I call you?" He inquired.

"Folks just call me Nomad." I answered and took a swig of whiskey. Fuck, even the booze in this place was top shelf! I was beginning to enjoy myself.

"Nomad, eh? That's a great name for an adventurer, I must say! Wise idea, too, keeping your real name to yourself like that! A name like Nomad carries mystery with it…a little mystery can make you famous faster'n anything!" The old man replied excitedly.

"Glad you like it, Herbert. So, how do you like living here?" I asked.

"Eh, it's okay. Not a whole lot of excitement, though. Most folks are too afraid of the ghouls that live nearby to even open the gate. I'm bored out of my mind most days!" He said with another laugh.

"What's their problem with ghouls?" I wondered.

"Your guess is as good as mine." He replied. "I imagine it's just because they're a bunch of rich snobs. Most of them come from well-to-do families. Never earned a single cap the hard way. They stay here because Tenpenny only allows the crème de la crème in. And the crème de la crème are usually assholes!"

"And you're not like them?" I raised my eybrows.

"Haha! Hardly! I earned my fortune the old fashioned way, my boy! Adventuring! And I don't dislike ghouls at all! My trusty manservant, Argyle, was a ghoul, and he was like a son to me! Well, maybe a brother….actually, now that I think of it, I'm pretty sure he was much older than me…" he trailed off then asked, "and what's the name of YOUR ghoul manservant?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, old fella." I shrugged, changing the topic. "So…you're just living out your retirement in luxury, huh? What can you tell me about the building?" I pressed.

"Well, there isn't much to tell. It's frightfully boring here. Tenpenny mostly stays in his suite, Burke comes and goes every now and then. I'll tell you something else, boy…there's something not quite right about that man."

I nodded.

He went on. "The rest of them are just wasting their lives milling about in here, rolling around in each other's petty dramas! What's the point of living if you don't have a single real tale of your own to tell?" he shouted loud enough for several of the other patrons to overhear. They huffed loudly and waved his remark away.

"So what do you do for fun?" I interrupted.

"Well, every now and then, I'll take a trip to the basement…that's kind of exciting, I suppose." He said with a sigh.

"How do I get down there?" I asked with a smile.

"Ha! I knew you were an adventurer!" he smiled again. "Take my key! I rarely use it anymore. Think of it as an old adventurer passing the torch to the next generation!"

I took the key, and tucked it into a pocket. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Dashwood. I appreciate it."

I stood, shook his hand and left him with a last bit of advice before I walked out of the bar.

God damn. That couldn't have worked out any better. My luck hadn't failed me since I got here. I crept into a dark corner and pulled the key from my pocket, setting it on the floor in the deepest shadow I could.

I went to the elevator, and pushed the glowing yellow up button. The car arrived and I stepped in and rode it to the top floor.

A security guard was snoring loudly to my left as I stepped off the elevator. I slipped the keyring from his belt and let myself into Tenpenny's suite.

I made my way through the opulent rooms, and stopped for a moment to dig into my pack. Finding what I was looking for, I produced a large, brown bottle, twisted the cap and shook a pill out into my palm. I popped it into my mouth, and stretched reflexively. I capped the bottle and tossed it back into my pack.

I opened the outer door to the balcony. Burke was leaning casually against the railing, standing next to a large transmitter. Tenpenny was sitting next to a small table, a book and a bottle of brandy resting on top of it. I stepped through and left the doors wide open.

"Mr. Nomad. I'd like to introduce your new employer, Mr. Tenpenny. I trust everything is in order?" Burke began.

I nodded. "Nice to meet you, sir." I said to the old man.

"Ah, a well mannered young man!" He replied. "It's very nice to meet you, as well. Mr. Burke tells me I'm in for quite a show!"

"Yes sir. I guarantee it." I said seriously.

"Excellent!" Burke piped up. I can only speak from our limited interaction, but the outburst seemed very unlike him. Tenpenny was caught off guard, too.

"Mr. Burke seems to be looking forward to it as well!" said Tenpenny.

I laughed and said "Mr. Burke is clearly a man who loves his job."

"Indeed!" Tenpenny replied with a nod.

He and I had gotten off on the right foot, which I suppose is always good. I wouldn't want to anger a prospective employer, now, would I?

"Is everything all set?" asked Burke for the second time.

"Yeah. I told you, it's ready." I confirmed. It was all I could do to keep my muscles from tensing up.

"Then push the button, boy." he said in a voice tinged with menace.

Burke turned to face the horizon and I stood right next to him. I pointed to the outline of Megaton in the far distance.

"Keep those sunglasses on, Mr. Burke." I said. His fucking grin would have melted ice. He was almost quivering with excitement.

I stepped to the transmitter and let my hand hover over the button. I slapped it down and the transmitter emitted a loud beep.

Two seconds later, Burke was startled by a buzzing vibration in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out the receiver I had slipped in there a moment earlier. Realization dawned on his face, but my hands were already gripping his collar and belt.

"You'll pay for this." he said so quietly I could barely hear him.

I lifted him over my head and launched him well over the waist high railing. The Buffout had me pulsing with rage, and he flew silently out into the night. I had expected a scream, but instead, I swear I saw the man straighten his tie on the way down. He landed on the other side of the wall with a barely audible thud.

Tenpenny was completely stunned for a moment. The absurdity of the moment seemed to catch him off guard. He quickly gathered his senses and reached for his sniper rifle. Just then, he slammed back into his seat and his head snapped back. A large red gash spread across his throat, as Roy slowly began to appear behind him. First the large bloody combat knife appeared, then his head and hands appeared…which, I have to say, was fucking surreal. Unless you've been bugging out on Buffout and seen a ghoul's floating, detatched head and hands slashing a man's throat, you don't quite know what I'm talking about.

Roy stepped around and faced Tenpenny as he gurgled blood from the gaping wound. Tenpenny's eyes lolled around in his head, as he struggled for life.

"Fucking ghoul hater." Roy spat and plunged the knife deep into Tenpenny's heart. He turned and faced me.

"Are your men in place?" I asked.

Roy nodded. "I met them in the basement and let them into the courtyard. The guards on the ground should all be dead and my men should have their uniforms on by now."

"Alright, they know the plan? Posing as guards, they sweep the building and take out the rest of the guards inside, then round up the residents. I don't want a fucking bloodbath in here." I insisted.

"Don't worry. They'll do their job." He replied.

We went back into Tenpenny's suite, and within a minute I had located his safe hidden behind a large painting. Roy went into the hallway, and came back into the room a few moments later, dragging the dead guard behind him.

"Leave him in the corner. You didn't damage the uniform?" I asked as I got to work on the safe.

"Nah…broke his neck." He replied with a shrug. He let the body drop in the corner with a thud.

I carefully worked the lock pick into the lock and gently began to add torque. My hands were still trembling from the Buffout I had taken earlier. The pick bent, but didn't break. My luck held and I heard a loud 'clink' as the tumbler found the right spot.

I opened the door to the safe slowly. I wanted to savor the moment. I peered in and couldn't believe my luck. I pulled the cool looking sunglasses up onto the top of my head, and called out to Roy, who was in the next room. "Roy…get in here! You're gonna want to see this…"


	5. Home Sweet Home

Chapter 5 - Home, Sweet Home

The heavy lead door of the safe stood open, and Roy and I stared slack-jawed. Inside were cloth bags, each one tied at the top with a small string. The thing was stuffed to the top with the bags, and I reached inside and pulled one out, rattling it around. I turned the bag over in my hand and gazed at the writing on the opposite side. _"5K."_ Five thousand caps.

"Son of…" I began.

"…a bitch…" Roy finished. I handed the bag to Roy and began to scoop bags out onto the floor.

"_Five, Ten, Fifteen, Twenty…"_ I began to count. Jesus Christ. I was rich! I scooped the whole pile greedily out onto the floor and Roy dropped to his knees. Propped up behind the pile against the back wall of the safe was a strange little white haired statue wearing a blue and red outfit and a pointy red hat. He had an odd smile on his face, with pudgy little rosy red cheeks. "BOMB!" I shouted as I dropped to the floor next to the large pile of money bags.

I covered my head and held my face to the floor. I laid there like that for about ten seconds before I uncovered my ears and raised my head. Roy was looking at me like I had lost my fucking mind. He stood and looked into the safe and began to laugh loudly. "It's a fucking garden gnome! BHA HA HA! That's rich!" He exclaimed.

I rolled over and sat next to the pile, laughing. The two of us counted the fortune on the floor next to us, spending the next few minutes in silence.

Net gain…two hundred thousand caps. I opened a bag to discover that the caps were all from bottles of Nuka Cola Quantum, the bright blue, radioactive cola that was introduced just before the great war. Each one of these beauties was worth 10 normal caps.

I tried to wrap my mind around how Tenpenny ended up with so many of the rare caps. I figured he must have been quite an adventurer in his youth, and raided the Nuka Cola bottling plant for this specific purpose. It was a shame he turned out to be such a closed minded bigot after he made his fortune, because the man was undoubtedly brilliant to come up with such a perfect get-rich-quick scheme.

Anyway, the agreement between Roy and I going in was that we would split anything we could find 60/40, which meant that I was now in possession of over one hundred twenty thousand caps. Roy was beaming his ghoulish smile. I had a feeling that eighty thousand caps would be enough to keep a guy like Roy happy for a very long time, so we split our portions and I began to toss my bags back into the safe. Roy gathered his portion and began to take it into the vacant suite across the hall.

I returned to the balcony and searched Tenpenny's body. An old man like him was likely to have trouble remembering things, so I figured that he'd keep the combination to his safe somewhere on his person. It didn't take me long to find what I was looking for and I found the combination on a small piece of paper tucked into a hidden flap on his tall right boot. I tucked the paper into a pocket on my chest, and turned back towards the room.

Making my way back into the suite, I closed the door to the balcony. I tossed my trader's jacket onto the large, well-kept bed and slipped into the combat armor I retrieved from the dead guard in the corner. I pulled my jacket back on, concealing the armor, closed and locked the safe and met Roy in the hallway. "Okay. You ready?" I asked.

"Fuck yes." He replied with a nod and a smile.

We returned to the elevator and took the ride back down to the lobby. Roy's squad had the residents of the tower rounded up and were standing in a loose circle with their weapons trained, surrounding them.

Roy and I walked up to the gathering and I began to address the assembled group.

"Attention everyone! This tower is under new management! From what I understand, some of you are not exactly friendly towards ghouls, so pay attention…I'm talking to you."

Several of the residents began to murmer to each other. I raised a hand to silence them.

"Whatever your reasons might be, I'd advise you to keep them to yourselves." I went on. "You have several options. We are not unreasonable people, so you will be given a choice. One: You can continue to live in luxury here in the tower, but you will be living side by side with our new friends, here. Two: You can choose to leave. You will be given 30 minutes to gather your belongings and get the fuck out. Nobody will stop you. Your third option…and I can't recommend this one, is to stand up for what you believe in, and try to start some shit."

Just then, a pissed off looking man wearing a nice looking sweater vest stood up and began to speak. "You god-damned zombies can't just come in here and…"

One of Roy's commandos pulled a pistol from his belt and shot the man directly in the forehead, silencing him with what looked to me like a bored look on his face. It was sometimes tricky to tell with ghouls, but he slipped the pistol back into it's holster and yawned, so I'd say I was on the mark.

I went on, "Ok, then. Anyone else feel as passionate as this fellow here?"

The residents remained silent.

"I'd like you to split up into two groups. Those of you who would like to stay, please step to the right." I pointed to two spots on the floor. "Those of you who will be leaving, to the left."

At once, the entire assembled group rose and stood at the first spot.

"Good." I smiled. "I believe you'll quickly learn that ghouls are people too. Treat them with respect, and they will treat you with respect. There is no reason that everyone here can't live together. In fact, these MEN will be your main source of security from the outside world, so if you want my opinion, I'd treat them with an extra measure of politeness."

Several of the residents were staring silently at the floor, while several others nodded their heads in agreement. Herbert was standing towards the front of the group with a huge smile on his face. He winked at me, and I could tell he was having the time of his life. Evidently, he'd been waiting for an armed takeover of this place for some time, and I was happy to oblige him. It was obvious which of the residents were friendly towards ghouls and which ones weren't. I didn't really give a fuck either way. The haters would learn to adjust, or they wouldn't last long.

"Roy Phillips, here, will be the new head of security, as well as the operating manager of this facility." I continued. "Treat him as you treated Chief Gustavo. Speaking of my friend, buddy and pal…where is that fucking little weasel?" I asked one of the ghouls, as I scanned the pile of dead guards in the corner.

Just then, as if on cue, the lights cut out and the lobby was shrouded in darkness. A few moments later, the emergency lighting system kicked on and the room was bathed in a pale red hue. A loud, high-pitched shriek was heard from outside, and I leaned over to Roy and whispered, "keep them calm."

Roy nodded, so I made my way to the front door. I opened it just in time to see Gustavo running for his life and screaming like the devil himself was chasing him. "Noooooooo! HELLLLLP MEEEEEE!" He was looking over his shoulder as he ran and slammed his knee against a large ammo box next to a sand bag. He stumbled and fell, trying to gain his footing and failing spectacularly. He rolled onto his back, with a look of sheer panic on his face and let out another loud scream.

I leaned out the front door, peeked to the right and saw what he was running from. A pack of about ten feral ghouls came sprinting around the corner and quickly turned towards his prone body. I watched in fascination as the first ghoul ran towards him, leaped onto his chest and ripped his throat out with a single gnashing bite. Blood shot from his torn throat, pumping with each rapid heart beat. The ghoul chewed and tore at his ravaged neck. Gurgling sounds escaped Gustavo as he tried to fight the ghoul off, but he was quickly overtaken as the rest of the ghouls pounced on top of him.

I could hear more rapid footsteps from around the corner, and it sounded like a LOT more ferals were on the way.

"FERALS!" I shouted as I slammed the doors shut. I ran back towards the group as the first of the manic ghouls reached the front door and began pounding and scratching at the wood. I knew it wouldn't hold long.

I pointed to two of the ghouls standing closest to me and shouted, "You and you, fortify those doors! Get benches, plants, whatever! DO IT, NOW!" The guards casually made their way to the door, and I ran over to Roy.

"We have to get these people to safety!" I said to him as I motioned to the group.

"You'll need this." He replied calmly and handed me an ugly looking mask.

I turned the mask over in my hand, and realized what it was. A ghoul mask. What the fuck?

"What the fuck is this?" I asked, incredulously. "Why would you even have a ghoul mask? What possible reason could you have for carrying something like this around, Roy?" It wasn't the time or place for the question, but the sheer ridiculousness of a ghoul carrying a ghoul mask around with him was too much for me to handle.

"They'll be inside any second," he replied calmly. "I'd put it on if I were you."

Son of a bitch.

"You did this, didn't you?" I shouted.

He nodded.

"Fuck!" I thought to myself. "Time to go."

I ran over to Herbert and grabbed his hand. "We're getting the fuck out of here, old timer!" We ran to the elevator and I stabbed at the button.

"Come on, come on, come on!" I shouted at the elevator. I looked over my shoulder just as the ghoul guards opened the door. Ferals began to pour into the lobby and the guards didn't raise a finger to stop them. The crowd began to scream in terror, and scattered in a frenzy as the ferals crashed into the group.

Then I realized the problem. The emergency power wouldn't take care of the elevator. I ran to a side door, and stumbled into the stairwell, practically dragging Herbert along with me.

I slammed the door behind us, and handed the mask to him. "Put this on, and get out through the fuckin' basement! Avoid getting too close to them, and you should be fine!" I said breathlessly. The loud screams were filling the lobby, as the ferals hunted for flesh.

"I told ya. Roy Phillips can't be trusted." He shouted over his shoulder as he began the descent to the basement. He did tell me. It was the last piece of advice he shared before I left the bar. "If your invisible friend is who I think he is, I'd watch your back…" He said. I wish I'd listened.

I turned and began to run up the flights of stairs as fast as I could. I reached the third floor and heard a loud banging as the first of the feral ghouls slammed into the door below.

_"Godspeed, Herbie,"_ I thought, as I ran and ran. A deep growl echoed up the stairwell, as the door began to crack and splinter away from it's hinges.

I ran until my lungs were on fire. The cool looking sunglasses flew from my head, but I didn't have time to worry about it. I just fucking ran, skipping steps two at a time. Finally, I reached the top floor, out of breath. The door below must have finally given because the stairwell was immediately filled with the screams of the dying residents below. A loud howl rose towards me, and I heard multiple footsteps shuffling quickly up the stair case.

The door was locked. "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" I swore as I began to pick the heavy duty lock. I applied too much torque, and instantly snapped the first lock pick. I fumbled into a pocket on my chest and produced another pick. The shuffling was getting closer. I didn't know how fast these assholes could climb stairs, but I didn't want to find out.

I slammed the second lock pick home and began to try again. The first rotation was off its mark, and the tumbler slammed harshly against the pick. "Damnit!" I screamed. _"Calm the fuck down. Gotta stay calm."_ I tried again, twisting the pick a bit further to the left. I turned the tumbler again, and it moved a little bit further before banging against the pick a second time. Finally, I found the right spot and the door swung open. I bounded through the door just as the first ghoul rounded the corner of the stair well and began to rush towards the top of the stairs.

I kicked the ghoul in the chest and he sailed back down the stairs, crashing into the wall below. I slammed the heavy wooden door behind me and rushed across the hall to Tenpenny's suite. I opened the door and practically dove into the room. I tossed my rifle on the bed, then ran to a large dresser in the corner and began to slide it towards the door. Just as I finished moving the dresser into place, I felt the cold steel of a pistol against the back of my head and stopped in my tracks.

I stood stock still, my shoulders tense. "Phillips." I muttered through clenched teeth. He must have gotten the elevator working as soon as I hit the stairs.

"They had to die." He replied icily. "Fucking bigots, every one of them."

"Not all of them. And what about you?" I asked, frozen in place. "How do YOU feel about humans?"

"Fuck you and your high horse," he said. "Who the fuck do you think you are, judging me? Did you really think I was going to go through all this, just to end up working for some fucking high and mighty smooth skin?"

"It's not like that! We had a fucking deal!" I shouted.

_"Fuck this,"_ I thought. _"If this mother fucker is going to kill me, he's gonna have to look me in the eye."_ I turned to face him, and he kept the pistol leveled at my forehead.

"We HAD a deal. I'm altering the deal…pray I don't alter it any further." He said menacingly. I had to admit…it was a good line. Sent a chill down my spine.

I was purely fucked, and we both knew it.

Just then, the door shuddered as the pissed off feral banged against it. Roy's eyes shot over my shoulder, and I realized it would be my only chance. I ducked my head to the left and the pistol went off next to my head. My right ear was deafened instantly. I kicked Roy in the balls as hard as I could, and the gun clattered to the floor. I kicked the pistol away, and we squared off.

We circled around each other. Roy was limping noticeably, his aching nutsack clearly interfering with his movement. Good. I hoped that I had crushed them both.

He pulled his large knife from his belt and waved it before his face with a pissed off grin.

"You fucking cock sucker." I snarled. "Let's get it over with!"

He grunted in reply and slashed towards me with much more quickness than I had expected. He opened a large gash on my left cheek, and blood shot from my face. I grimaced. Roy laughed. The feral continued to pound at the door.

Roy lunged for my gut, and I dodged backwards just in time. His blade sliced through my jacket and careened off the combat armor. I threw a looping right hook towards his face and he ducked it, grinning the whole time. He circled to my left, and I kicked sideways at his knee. The kick landed squarely, ripping the rotting tendons in his right leg. He collapsed to one knee and let out a loud scream.

"MOTHER FUCKER!" He shouted in his raspy voice. "I'm gonna fucking gut you!"

I could barely hear him through the ringing in my ears. I kicked him in the face, and sent him sprawling on his back. Stomping on his wrist, I forced the blade from his clenched fist.

I dropped onto his chest and dug both thumbs into his eye sockets. Roy screamed in agony as I forced my thumbs deep into his head. His eyes squished until they popped under the torque of my thumbs. I was furious with rage, and held my grip on both sides of his head. I slammed his head repeatedly against the hard tile of the floor until a large pool of blood began to spread. His legs twitched beneath me, and I knew he was dead.

I stopped bashing his head against the floor, but the crashing sound continued. What the fuck? All of a sudden, I remembered the ghoul pounding at the door. As the top portion of the door began to splinter and crack, the feral's face filled the open area that had been knocked away.

Rushing to the bed, I hurried and grabbed my rifle. Shoving it into the ghouls face, I blew his nasty head off. He fell away with a thud, and I saw the area behind him. Fuck. I'd have to be fast. Through the hole in the door, I could see the hallway filling with ferals, many of them covered in blood. A Reaver turned to face my direction and spat a large glob of bile at me. The disgusting goo impacted the door with a splat and began to eat away at the wood.

Son of a bitch! It was too late to save the residents, but I just might be able to save myself.

I slung the rifle over my shoulder, ran over and yanked the painting from the wall, tossing it to the floor contemptuously. What the fuck was that combo? I dug around in my pocket and pulled out the paper. Thirty six, twenty four, seventeen. I fucked it up the first time, and tried again. I got it right this time, and the lock released just as more ghouls began to tear away at the door.

I opened the safe as quickly as I could, then dropped my pack to the floor. I pulled out a large rope I had purchased from Moira, and looped it over my other shoulder. Then, I overturned my pack and dumped the rest of my supplies on the floor. I reached into the safe and began to stuff my backpack full of the money pouches. Once it was as full as I could get it, I locked the clasp as tightly as I could, and threw it onto my back. I scrambled over to Roy's twitching corpse and took his combat knife and sheathe, then grabbed the his pistol from the floor and stuck it in the waistline of my pants.

I ran out to the balcony, closing the flimsy doors behind me just as the dresser began to slide away from the hallway door. Rushing to the corner, I tied one end of the rope tightly to the base of the railing and tossed the other end out into the night. The ghouls began pounding at the balcony door and it started to break immediately. I climbed over the railing, and began to lower myself carefully. If I fell from this height, I'd be dead for sure.

The ferals broke through the balcony door without trouble and began to hurl themselves over the railing after me. I had to keep a tight grip on the rope as one of them banged into me on the way down. The ground below me was becoming a gory soup, as the ferals plummeted around me. When I reached a point roughly two thirds of the way down, I slid the rest of the length down until I was dangling from the end of the rope about fifteen feet above the courtyard. Ghouls continued to rain down around me, but I knew I couldn't hang there forever.

Determined not to make the same mistake twice, I dropped straight to the ground, bending my knees as I landed. I stood and quickly checked myself for injuries as I hurried towards the front gate. I pushed the button on the wall and the large gate began to open.

As I crept into the wasteland, I kept an eye on the front gate of the tower. I was in a frantic rush and tripped over a dark figure in the dirt, falling on my face next to a corpse. Dirt and debris flew up into the bloody gash on the side of my face.

The body was dressed in Burke's fancy suit, complete with broken sunglasses and the prewar fedora was laying nearby…but something was wrong. The corpse's face was shriveled and desiccated with sallow and shrunken cheeks. The skin was grey and decaying. I could tell this body had been dead for weeks.

What the fuck was going on here? If this wasn't Burke, then who the fuck was it? Where was Burke?

After pondering the whole fucked up situation for a few moments, I picked myself up, dusted myself off and escaped into the night, carrying a fucking fortune on my back…


	6. The Happiest Place on Earth

Chapter 6 – The Happiest Place on Earth

After hurrying away from the hell that had become of Tenpenny Tower, I made my way to the small shop that Roy and I had our first conversation in. I bedded down for the night, and tuned my Pip-Boy to Galaxy News Radio. Although I was exhausted both mentally and physically, I had a hard time falling asleep. My head pounded and my ear continued to produce a sharp, ringing sound. It took me a while, but gradually I found a comfortable position and started to drift off. The last thing I remember hearing were unsettling lyrics about a man named "Butcher Pete" and a bit of thinly veiled innuendo about how he loved "chopping up all the women's meat." That night, my dreams were filled with images of that ghoul bastard, Roy Phillips, brutally raping Sarah. Roy punished her again and again, eventually ending her life by dismemberment while I stood powerless to stop him. Needless to say, I woke up in a pretty bad mood.

Spending the first few minutes of the new day in a groggy haze, I double checked my bag full of money, secured my weapons, and slipped my heavy trader jacket over my new set of armor. As I wandered around the store to loosen up, I found a small stash of a drug called Jet. I'd never tried the stuff before, but it was supposed to improve focus and reflexes. _"What the hell?" _I thought, and took a long pull on the inhaler. _"I could use some extra focus this morning."_ I held my breath deep in my lungs and immediately began to feel better about last night's events. I gave a couple of evil dudes a taste of wasteland justice, survived a one on one fight with one pissed off ghoul (I'm sure the Buffout had a bit to do with that), and managed to escape that house of horrors with not only my life, but also a whole shitload of caps. "Not bad for one night's work," I chuckled to myself.

After a bit of stretching and loosening my muscles, I made my way to the door and opened it cautiously. I didn't think any of Roy's goons had seen me make my escape, but I couldn't be too careful. The bright sunlight hit my face, and instantly I wished I had been able to keep the sweet shades I found. I was almost beginning to think they were bringing me good luck...until Roy decided to go off the reservation and completely fuck me over. "_Oh well,_" I thought, "_fuck it. Maybe they weren't lucky shades after all._" I stepped out the door, shielded my eyes against the harsh sunlight and made my way back out into the wastes.

I made it about five steps out the door when three tough looking assholes stepped around the side of the building. "Hold it right there," one of them said as he stepped forward. These guys didn't look like raiders, that much was clear. The guy in the lead had greasy looking hair hanging loosely down to his shoulders. He had a tightly shaved goatee, which was something I hadn't seen much of. The general filth of the wasteland didn't lend itself very well to grooming. He brandished a police baton, like the ones that the security agents in the Vault used to carry. The other two were clearly followers. One guy had on a pre-war baseball cap and a nasty sneer. The third guy just had a dumb look on his face. All three wore black combat armor with a white insignia on the chestplate. "_Great_," I thought, "_if it ain't one thing, it's another._"

"Look, fellas..." I began. "I really don't have time for this shit today."

The leader laughed at that. "Oh, is that a fact? Well, tough shit pal. Looks like this just ain't your lucky day!" The followers chuckled and pulled their weapons. Baseball Guy pulled a 9mm pistol from his side, and the dumb looking guy produced a switchblade from his pocket. I wasn't impressed. Wherever these guys were from, they certainly weren't that well armed.

"Put the rifle on the ground and drop the bag" the leader growled. "Then, keep your hands where I can see them." The two followers fanned out to either side of him, and looked like they'd rather fight me than rob me. I was more than happy to oblige. My adrenaline started to pump, and now the effects of the Jet began fucking with my sense of reality. The men seemed to move in slow motion, taking long slow strides to get into position.

"Sure thing, pal." I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. In my mind, it sounded like "surrrrre thiiiiing, paaaaaal." I unslung my rifle and dropped it to the ground. I watched it fall slowly to the ground, like a piece of trash tumbling in the breeze. Then, I unhooked my backpack, and tossed it heavily to my side. When it landed on the concrete of the parking lot, all three men opened their eyes widely in surprise at the unmistakeable sound of the jingling caps hitting the pavement.

_"Now!"_ I thought, and whipped Roy's 9mm out from the small of my back. I focused in on the asshole with the pistol, and now time really had slowed down. I had a perfect, clean shot at his neck, so I fired one, two, three shots faster than I'd ever fired before. All three shots hit him in the throat, and his head tumbled away from his body with a look of surprise still registered on his face. I grinned as I watched the head rotate over and over in slow motion, on its way to the ground.

The leader reacted quickly, and shouted "GET HIM!" to his cohort. They circled around me, in a slow-mo ballet. The dumb one charged first, slashing towards me in a long stabbing motion. I ducked to his left, and his momentum almost carried him past me. He tried to stop and slash back to his right, but by that time I was already behind him. I gripped his armor behind the neck and pressed the pistol to the right side of his head. Before he could even react, his brains were exiting the other side. That just left the leader, standing there with a look of disbelief on his face, and the police baton in his hand.

I laughed and dropped the pistol to the ground. "Now what, mother fucker?" I jeered. I could tell he couldn't decide if he wanted to fight, or run. Either way, I wasn't about to give him the choice. I circled in on him, moving to my left, towards his right hand that held the baton. He swung it sharply towards my face, just missing. He left me a huge opening, and I had all the time in the world, it seemed. I punched him quickly in the nose, then caught his arm as the baton swung back towards my face. I rotated my body, and now my back was towards him. I held my grip on his wrist, with his outstretched arm over my shoulder. I pulled down with all the force I could muster, and snapped his arm at the elbow. He screamed in agony, and the baton fell to the earth. I turned to face him, and tears were rolling down his face. His nose was gushing blood into his goatee and he had a hard time standing.

"Yer g-g-gonna regret this, mister." He stammered. "Don't y-you know who the fuck w-w-we are?"

I picked up the pistol from the ground, and pointed it straight at his head. "Don't know, and don't care. You started some shit with the wrong guy today, and got what you deserved. Looks like today's just not your lucky day. Now...get on the ground." He dropped to his knees and began to sob. His crotch went wet as he pissed all over his cool looking armor. I held the gun to his forehead and took a moment to decide what to do. "Fuck it," I thought, and pulled the trigger.

I began to check his corpse for supplies and ammo, and stopped when I found a small note that took me entirely by surprise. It simply said: **"New Contract to All Talon Company Mercs. KILL NOMAD."** _"Great,"_ I thought. _"that's just what I need. Thanks a lot, Three Dog."_ Glancing around at the neighboring hills, I wondered if there were more of them. I knew that even if there weren't any around now, there would be soon. I picked up the switchblade from where it had fallen next to the dumb looking guy, took the note and placed it on his chest, then buried the blade deep into it. I'd send them a message of my own: Bring it on, fuckers. Then I grabbed the baseball cap from the first guy I'd shot and pulled it down tight over my head. I tucked my pistol into my waistband, gathered up my backpack, slung my rifle over my shoulder, and got the fuck out of there.

I hurried away from the building, and made my way back into the wasteland. After about ten minutes of moving at a hurried pace, I took a breather. Glancing at my Pip-Boy, I decided to return to Rivet City and see what a few thousand caps would do to persuade the delightful Dr. Li to help me find my dad. I had a feeling that since she wouldn't listen to reason, and I couldn't use my talent for violence to change her mind, maybe a bit of cold, hard cash would do the trick.

I headed east and kept my eyes and ears sharp for anyone or anything that would stand in my way. After about an hour of trudging along, I reached a small ridge that overlooked a small community of homes. Crouching low to the ground, I surveyed the scene for a few minutes before deciding to press on.

As I approached the houses, I saw a sign that read "Welcome to Andale! The greatest town in the world!" "_Calling this place a town is like calling Moira Brown a genius,_" I thought to myself. The "town" consisted of two fairly well kept houses (considering the circumstances), a third, smaller house, and one completely bombed out wreck that used to be a home. As I approached the westernmost home, I heard voices coming from behind a boarded up window.

"Come now, Junior. Finish your meal, and then you can go play with Jenny," chided a man. The smell wafting from the house was a bit smokey, and actually smelled like some pretty decent grilled meat. Brahmin, I guessed, and my mouth began to water at the idea. "I don't want to play with smelly ol' Jenny! I'd rather help you and Mr. Wilson at your work!" replied the boy.

"Hello?" I called out. "I'm a traveler passing through, and I was wondering if I might make a stop here for a bit!" My stomach was growling at the idea of a real meal, especially if these people were having fresh grilled brahmin steaks! I could hear a commotion inside as the family set their food aside and made their way to the front door to greet me. I sauntered around the side of the house and as I rounded the corner to the front yard, I met a tall, strong-looking man, a fairly attractive blonde woman and their kid who looked to be about 11 or so.

"Well, hello there!" said the man. He was bald and wearing a bright red checkered shirt that covered his muscular arms and healthy paunch. "Jack Smith's the name, this here is my wife Linda and our son Junior! Welcome to Andale, the greatest town in all the world! Who might you be?"

"Well, sir, folks just call me Nomad." I replied nonchalantly. "I was passing through when I caught a whiff of your meal and wondered if you folks might be able to spare a bite to eat? I gotta tell ya sir, the smell of those steaks really got my mouth watering. I can pay, of course, if you have any to spare."

"Nonsense!" he replied with a good natured laugh, extending a handshake. "There's plenty to go around, and we won't charge you a single cap! There's a reason that Andale is the greatest town in the world, you know? Hospitality is a way of life around here! Come on in and make yourself at home, friend!"

I smiled and shook his hand firmly. The man was strong, there was no doubt about it, and his hand was covered with rough calluses. Here was a guy who put in hard work, just to make sure his family was well taken care of. I could respect that, and thought of my dad with a tinge of sadness. "I appreciate that more than you know, Mr. Smith. I haven't had a good meal in quite some time." I said, still smiling.

He led the way inside and the house was darker than I expected. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the harsh, bright sunlight to the dark, dreary house. The windows were all boarded up, and let in just the slightest hint of sunlight through the slits between the boards. The contrast of the dark home to the resident's cheery demeanor stirred an uneasiness inside of me, but I shrugged it off as we made our way to the kitchen. "_How nice is a house supposed to be in a fucking wasteland? These people are going out of their way to be good, thoughtful hosts. Show some fucking respect!_" I chided myself. "Smells delicious! You must be one fantastic cook!" I smiled at the woman. "It's quite a feat to make a **decent** tasting meal from a tough ol' Brahmin, let alone a **GREAT** smelling one!"

"Uh...thank-" the woman started before the husband cut her off.

"Oh yes, Linda is a wonderful cook! Best cook in the Capital Wasteland!" Jack laughed as he pulled out an extra chair for me.

We took our seats and Linda prepared a plate of the delicious looking meat, with a side of crunchy mutfruit, and a cold Nuka-Cola to wash it all down with. I cut into my steak and closed my eyes as I took my first bite. The smokey flavor filled my mouth, and I elicited a small grunt of approval. Savoring the taste, I chewed the juicy meat and swallowed with a big, dumb, happy smile on my face.

"May I be excused, sir?" asked Junior, pushing his empty plate aside. Clearly he wasn't interested in sitting at a boring lunch with grown ups and had decided that "smelly ol' Jenny" was better company than a haggard looking wastelander. I didn't mind. "_Kids will be kids,_" I thought to myself as I shoveled in another mouthful of steak.

"Of course, son! Go find Jenny and swing on the swing set for a while. We'll call out for you when it's time to come home," replied Jack.

Junior pushed his chair away from the table and bounded out of the house with a "yippee!"

We continued to eat while making small talk. I told them about how I was searching for my father, and asked if they had seen him. They said they didn't recall seeing anyone matching his description and that they would have welcomed him with open arms if they had. After about ten minutes, Jack finished his meal before Linda and I did, and stood up to clear his plate into the garbage can. He passed behind me as I greedily continued stuffing my face.

"Really, Mrs. Smith, this is the best-" I started to say to Linda just before a huge pain erupted in the back of my skull and the room erupted into stars. I had a split second of realization before I passed out face-first into the sloppy, bloody steak on my plate. Knocked out cold.

I awoke in a dark basement. The burly Mr. Smith stood above me with an evil glint in his eye, and a bloody apron draped over his checkered shirt. A single lightbulb swung slowly back and forth on its cord, casting shadows that seemed to dance slowly back and forth across the wall.

"Mfghhfhhrrr Fghghhhfhhrr!" I struggled to shout. My head throbbed, and my mouth was gagged with a bloody rag. I was dressed in only my underwear and t-shirt. My hands and feet were bound to a cold metal table, and my eyes were wide with terror. I looked to my right and saw one of the most gruesome sights I've ever seen. On the next table to the right was a torso, bloody and limbless. The mouth had a dirty rag stuffed into it, and where the eyes should have been, were gaping bloody holes.

Slowly, I comprehended the scene before me, and realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The delicious tasting steak I had been gorging myself on was this poor bastard's legs. I vomited in my own mouth, a bit of it oozing out past the rag that was tied around my face. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to swallow the rest of it, and let out a low moan. This was not the way I wanted to die. I was terrified beyond belief, and clinched my asshole shut in a desperate attempt to keep from shitting myself.

"You're gonna be the tastiest piece of meat we've had around here in a long time, mister. In fact, you're gonna make this the happiest town in the world!" he chuckled menacingly. He raised a small chainsaw to head level, making sure I could see it. He flipped the switch and the chainsaw roared to life. His laughter began to rise in volume and pitch. The light shone down on his face from above, casting a terrifying shadow and that evil glint in his eye became a mask of insanity.

Just then, a single, loud gunshot rang out from the floor above. Jack spun towards the stairs and stealthily began to creep up them one by one. He clinched the ripper chainsaw tightly letting it idle quietly, and reached forward to unlock the door. He turned the lock then wrapped his hand around the doorknob, turning it slowly. I struggled against my restraints, trying to make any noise I could. Without warning, another shot rang out, and Jack flew backwards down the stairs. He slumped against the wall at the foot of the stairs, the top half of his head was a ragged hole where his brain used to be.

Light shone down the stairs through the huge hole in the door, and the knob turned slowly. I grunted and groaned against the gag, struggling and flopping on the table. The door swung open lazily and a long shadow stretched down the stairs and over Jack the cannibal's twitching corpse. Casually, the man at the top of the stairs began to descend into the chamber.

He was dressed in a long trenchcoat, tied at the waist and wore a dark brown fedora. He smiled at me and blew the smoke from the barrel of his .44 magnum. He strode down the stairs when he noticed my predicament. As he reached behind my head and untied the gag, I noticed that he seemed very familiar. I knew I hadn't met him before, but his features seemed like someone I knew. I couldn't put my finger on it. He had a strangely peaceful aura about him. Something about the man just set me at ease.

I opened and closed my mouth, loosening my jaw. Turning my head away from him, I spit out a huge glob of bloody phlegm.

"Holy mother-fucking shit..." I gasped. "You have some great fucking timing, mister!"

"How's it going, Nomad?" he asked, putting a sarcastic emphasis on the last word. He smiled brightly and holstered the magnum.

"Not too fucking well, man! How do you think it's going? Who the fuck are you? How do you know who I am?" I shouted frantically.

"Relax. I'm a friend. You and I need to have a little chat."

"Oh yeah? About what? Do you mind untying me while we have this little chat?" I asked loudly, my voice full of panic.

He grinned again. "A war. We're in the middle of a war, and not the kind of war you think. I'm not talking about the day to day struggle to live in a wasteland. I'm talking about something much more important."

"_Great...my savior is a fucking lunatic._" I thought to myself.

"No. I'm not." He said, turning his back to me. "Last night, you became a part of something much larger than you know. When you threw that man off the tower, you joined sides, my friend."

"Burke?" I asked incredulously. "That fucking scumbag deserved to die. I don't know what you're talking about, but do know that much!"

"You believe you know what he deserves?" the stranger asked with raised eyebrows. "No...you're not yet able to deliver him to justice."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I looked into his eyes as he went over the wall. There's no way he survived!" I growled. My patience was growing thin. I wanted answers, and this guy definitely had some. "But when I looked for Burke's body, someone had replaced him with a shriveled corpse! What the fuck is that about?"

He shook his head and sighed. "Burke is much smarter than you think. Perhaps the man you threw from the tower wasn't who you think he was."

"What does that mean? And who are you?" I asked again.

He just smiled and walked towards the stairs. "I'll be seeing you." He said, finishing the sentence by using my real name.

"WAIT! Can you at least untie me?" I pleaded.

He stopped in his tracks and his smile widened. "Of course." He whipped out the magnum and shot all four restraints in less than as many seconds. The bullets impacted less than an inch away from each of my appendages, and all 4 restraints fell away. "_No. Fucking. Way._" I thought, incredulously. I sat up and for the first time, I saw my clothes in a pile in the corner. I wiped the nasty vomit from the corners of my mouth and from my chin. Then I loosened the straps on my ankles and looked back towards the stairs, but he was already gone.


End file.
